Q 

Book 1" 

CQEffilGHT DEPOSIT, 



>. \?S. 20 CENTS. 





LOVELL'S LIBRARY. 



CATALOGUE . 



Hyperion, by H. W. Longfellow. . .20 
Outre-Mer, by H. W, Longfellow .. .20 

The Happy Boy, byBjOrnson 10 

Arne, by Bjornson ,....10 

Frankenstein; or. the Modern Pro- 
metheus, by Mrs. Shelley 10 

The Last of the Mohicans, by J. 

Fenimore Cooper 20 

Clytie. by Joseph Hatton 20 

The Moonstone, by Collins, P"t I. .10 
The Moonstone, by Collins, P't 11.10 
Oliver Twist, by Charles Dickens. 20 

The Coming Race, by Lytton 10 

Leila, by Lord Lytton 10 

The Three Spaniards, by Walker. .20 
The Tricks of the Greeks Unveiled; 

or, the Art of Winning at every 

Game, by Bobert Houdin 20 

L'Abbe Con6tantin, byHalevy..20 

Freckles, by E. F. Redcliff 20 

The Dark Colleen, by Harriett Jay .20 
They Were Married ! by Walter Be- 

sant and James Rice 10 

Seekers after God, by Canon Farrar . v *0 
The Spanish Nun, by Thos. De 

Quincey 10 

The Green Mountain Boy?, by 

Judge D. P. Thompson 20 

Fleurette, by Eugene Scribe 20 

Second Thoughts, by Rhoda 

Broughton 20 

The New Magdalen, by WLkie 

Collins 20 

Divorce, by Margaret Lee 20 

Life of Washington, by Henley.. 20 
Social Etiquette, by Mrs. W. A. 

Saville 15 

Single Heart and Double Face, by 

Charles Reade 10 

Irene, by Carl Detlef 20 

Vice Versa; or, a Lesson to Fathers, 

by F. Anstey 20 

Ernest Maitravers, by Lord Lytton .20 
The Haunted House and Calderon 

the Courtier, by Lord Lytton... 10 

John Halifax, by Miss Mulock 20 

800 Leagues on the Amazon, being 
Part I of the Giant Raft, by 

Jules Veme 10 

The Cryptogram, being Part II of 

the Giant Raft, by Jules Verne.. 10 
Lifecf Marion, by Horry andWeems.20 

Paul and Virginia 10 

Tale of Two Cities, by Dickens. . . .20 

The Hermits, by Kingsley 20 

An Adventure in Thuie, and Mar- 
riage of Moira Fergus, by Wm. 

Black 10 

A Marriage in High Life, by Octave 

Feuillet 20 

Robin, by Mrs. Parr 20 

Two on a Tower, byThomas Hardy. 20 
Ras3elas, by Samuel Johnson 10 



84 



Alice, or, the Mysteries, being Part 
II of Ernest Maitravers 

Duke of Kandos, by A. Matthey . . 

Bai-on Munchausen 

A Princess of Thule, by Wm. Black 

The Secret Despatch, by Grant 

Early Days of Christianity, by Can- 
on Farrar, D,D., Part I 

Early Days of Christianity, by Can- 
on Farrar, D.D., Part II 

Vicar of Wakefield, by Oliver Gold- 
smith 

Progress and Poverty, by Henry 
George 

The Spy, by J. Fenimore Cooper. . . 

East Lynne, by Mrs. Henry Wood, 

A Strange Story, by Lord Lvtton. . 

Adam Bede, by Geo. Eliot, Part I. . 

Adam Bede, by Geo. Eliot, Part II. , 

The Golden Shaft, by Gibbon. 

Portia, or. By Passions Rocked, by 
The Duchess 

Last Days of Pompeii, by Lytton, 

The Two" Duchesses, being the se- 
quel to the Duke of Kando3, by 
A. Mathey 

Tom Brown's School Days at Rug- 
by 

The Wooing O't, by Mrs. Alexander, 
Part I .* 

TheWooing O't, by Mrs. Alexander, 
Part II 

The Vendetta, Tales of Love and 
Passion, by Honore de Balzac. 

Hypatia, by Rev. Kingsley, Part I. . 

Hypatia, by Kingsley, Part II. 

Selma, by Mrs. J. Gregory Smith. . 

Margaret and her Bridesmaids... 

Horse Shoe Robinson, Part I 

Horse Shoe Robinson, Part II 

Gullivers Travels, by Dean Swift., 

Amos Barton, by George Eliot. . . . 

The Berber, by W. E. Mayo 

Silas Llarner, by George Eliot.... 

The Queen of the County 

Life of Cromwell, by Paxton Hood., 

Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte.., 

Child's History of England, by 
Charles Dickens 

Molly Bawn. by The Duchess 

Pillone, by William Bergsoe 

Phyllis, by the Duchess 

Romola, by George Eliot, Part I. . , 

Romola, by George Eliot, Part II. . 

Science in Short Chapters 

Zanoni. by Lord Lytton 

A Daughter of Heth, by W. Black. 

The Right and Wrong Uses of the 
Bible, by Rev. R. Heber Newton, 

Night and Morning, by Lord Lytton 
Part I 

Night and Morning, by Lord Lytton 
Part II 



20 

.20 I 

io ! 

.20 
,20 I 

,20 I 

,20 

10 : 

20 

20 

,20 

20 

15 ! 

15 

20 

20 

,20 



15 



( 



UNDERGROUND RUSSIA 



REVOLUTIONARY PROFILES AND 



SKETCHES FROM LIFE 



BY 

STEPNIAK 

FORMERLY EDITOR OF " ZEMLIA I VOLIA " (LAND AND LIBERTY) 



WITH A PREFACE by PETER LA VROFF 



TRANSLATED FROM THE ITALIAN 



NEW YORK ; 
JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, 
14 & 16 Vesey Street. 
1883. 

i %■ >:. " """trS 



CONTENTS. 



INTRODUCTION. 



The Propaganda . . . . . .23 

The Terrorism . . .. . . . . 39 

REVOLUTION AR V P R F I LE S . 

Revolutionary Profiles .... '53 

Jacob Stefanovic . . . . . . 56 

Demetrius Clemens . . . . . -67 

Valerian Ossinsky . .' . . . .78 

Peter Krapotkine . . . . . . . S9 

Demetrius Lisogub . . . . . . . 99 

Jessy Helfman . . . , .106 

Vera Zassulic . . . . . 110 

Sophia Perovskaia . . . . . .119 

REVOLUTIONARY SKETCHES. 

The Moscow Attempt, I. A Band of Hermits . . . 139 

" u " II. The Mine . . . . 143 

Two Escapes , . . . . . .150 

1 ... . 



iv 



CONTENTS. 



The Ukrivateli (The Concealers) . . 166 

The Secret Press . .... 184 

A Trip to St. Petersburg ...... 194 

Conclusion ........ 238 



NOTE. 



Letter of the Executive Committee to Alexander III. . . 259 



PREFACE. 



The Socialist and Revolutionary movement in Russia 
could not fail to attract the attention of Western Europe. 
It is only natural, therefore, that in every European lan- 
guage a somewhat extensive literature should be found up- 
on this subject. The object of some of these works is 
simply to relate facts ; others seek to penetrate deeper, so 
as to discover the cause of the movement in question. I 
take no account of an entire branch of this literature, the 
novels, the romances, and the narratives, in which the au- 
thors, endeavoring to reproduce in an agreeable form the 
events and the types of the Nihilist world, strive to excite 
the imagination of the reader. 

It must be confessed that, for the most part, this liter- 
ature has not the slightest value. The authors know 
nothing of the facts related by them, having taken them 
at second or third hand, without the possibility of veri- 
fying the authenticity of the sources from which they derive 
their ideas; they do not even know the country of which 
they speak, the information published in the European 



4 PREFACE 

languages being very scanty ; and finally, they have not 
the least knowledge of the men who have played such 
prominent and important parts in that great drama, the 
Russian movement. It is therefore, very difficult to indi- 
cate, among the books written by foreigners upon Nihilism, 
any which give a tolerably truthful idea of the subject as a 
whole, or of any of its details. 

I could not point out even a single work of this kind 
which has avoided great errors and absurdities. 

But even the works hitherto published on this subject 
in the Russian language, which are very few in number 
and almost unknown in Europe, are far indeed from con- 
taining sufficient information ; and for these reasons. 

The authors who write for the Russian press, that is to 
say, under the Imperial rod, are compelled from mere 
considerations of personal security to weigh every word, 
every sentence, that issues from their pens. In under- 
taking, therefore, to write upon Nihilism, they know that 
they must pass over in silence many questions which relate 
both to the movement itself, and to the Russian political 
and social system which is the cause of it. Moreover, 
they are compelled to conceal the fact that they have ever 
known any of the principal leaders, and to represent these 
men, not as they are or were, but as they must perforce 
appear in a work written by a faithful subject of the Czar. 
Such a subject^ it is only too well known, is liable to exile 
or transportation for any little imprudent word that may 
escape him. Moreover, everything that has been published 
in Russia upon Nihilism, with scarcely any exception, has 
been written by its furious enemies, by those who conscien- 



PREFACE. 5 

tiously considei it a horrible crime, or a monstrous mad- 
ness. These authors, from their very position, either did 
not see, or would not see, what really caused the develop- 
ment of Nihilism. Of the Nihilists themselves they knew 
nothing, except from the judicial reports and the speeches of 
the Public Prosecutors, and had seen them, if at all only in 
the prisoners' dock. Everything that has been written 
upon Nihilism in Russia itself is therefore of very little 
value, either from the historical or the philosophical point 
of view. Such absurdities as the works of foreigners on 
this subject are full of, are certainly not to be found in 
them, but voluntary reticence and voluntary errors abound, 
and at the same time there is no lack even of unmistaka- 
ble blunders respecting the lives of the Revolutionists 
themselves. 

Something more might be hoped for from the partisans 
of the movement, who are to be found, some in Russia 
and some abroad as exiles. In fact, the publications of 
the Revolutionists which have been issued during the last 
three years abroad and from the secret press of St. Peters- 
burg, present a rich source of information respecting the 
modern revolutionary movement, but all these materials 
being in the Russian or Ukrainian language, have scarcely 
contributed anything to the works written in other lan- 
guages, and have remained for the most part unknown to 
Europe. 

The Russian exiles have very rarely undertaken works 
intended to explain to the European public the history 
and the causes of the Russian Revolutionary movement ; 
and even when they have done so, they have confined 



6 PREFACE. 

themselves to mere pamphlets of little moment, which 
threw light only on certain aspects of the movement, or 
dealt with entirely special questions. 

As for the few European scholars who know the Rus- 
sian language, the materials furnished by the Revolution- 
ary press are quite insufficient for them, and do not pre- 
serve them from great blunders. A perfect knowledge of 
Russia and of the condition of the Russian people is as- 
sumed, which it is all but impossible for a foreigner to 
possess. The progress of the Revolutionary movement 
must have been followed, too, step by step, and on the 
spot, in order to understand, not only the rapidity of its 
development, but the substitution, within a very brief 
period, of other theoretical and practical questions for 
those formerly in vogue. 

The questions which divided the party into various 
groups entirely disappeared in 1880. The year 1878 in- 
troduced into- the Revolutionary movement a crisis that 
led to a complete change, both in the division of the party 
into various sections and in their respective relations. The 
modes of action were changed ; the revolutionary type was 
changed. The defects and the virtues so characteristic of 
the most prominent persons in the movement a few years 
ago, gave place to totally different defects and virtues 
which characterize the Russian Revolutionary movement 
of modern days. 

Thus, even the very persons who had taken an active 
part in the movement; but had left the country for some 
time, or had applied themselves to some special and ex- 
clusive object, even those persons are liable to commit 



PREFACE. 7 

grave errors, both in their views upon the actual move- 
ment and in their predictions respecting the future. 

Only a man who for many years has been present in 
the ranks, who has taken a direct part in the various 
phases through which the Russian Revolutionary move- 
ment has passed, who has intimately known the persons 
who have appeared during those phases (for, although in- 
cluded within the period of a single decade, they are not- 
withstanding of an entirely different nature), only such a 
man, if he undertook to relate what he had himself seen, 
could give to European readers a sufficiently truthful idea 
of the form and substance of the Russian Revolutionary 
moment. 

Of such men among our party, who possess, moreover, 
the talent of expressing their thoughts in a good literary 
form, there are but few. 

I was greatly pleased therefore to learn that one of 
these few men had undertaken to present, in a series of 
animated pictures, the men and the incidents of the 
Russian Revolutionary movement, in the various phases of 
which he had taken a direct part. 

I remember with what enthusiasm the young men in the 
printing-office of the " Onward " in London heard some 
pages of his youthful writings read. Others would relate 
various episodes of his Odyssey as a propagandist among 
the peasants, when that propaganda attracted the greater 
part of the Revolutionary forces without distinction of 
party. He was one of the principal founders of the Rus- 
sian Revolutionary press, when, the inadequacy of the 
printing presses in operation abroad being recognized, the 

I 



8 PREFACE. 

Revolutionary party established its organs in the very 
capital of the Czar. Among the names of the most ener- 
getic actors in the principal phases which the Russian move- 
ment passed through, the Revolutionists always mention 
the name of him who appears before the European public 
under the pseudonym of Stepniak. I say the European 
and not the Italian public, because I am persuaded that 
the book which Stepniak has published in Italian will 
speedily find translators in other languages. 

The European public will at last have a faithful and 
animated picture of that movement, in which, on the one 
hand we see the masses deprived of all political life, crushed 
by the slavery of ages, pillaged by the Government, and 
ruined by economical dependence on the governing classes, 
but who preserve notwithstanding in Northern Russia the 
Rural Commune, and the profound and steadfast convic- 
tion that the land ought to belong to them, the cultivators, 
and that sooner or later the day will come for the " division 
of the land ; " and who in Southern Russia maintain the 
traditions of the autonomy of the Cossack Commune, On 
the other hand we have, as the offspring of Despotism, the 
vile herd, devoid of every sentiment of duty, who are ca- 
pable of sacrificing to their own interests, or even personal 
caprices, the interests of the State, and of the people ; 
who in the bureaucracy reveal themselves by shameful 
acts of peculation and venality, without a parallel except 
in Eastern Asia, and unsurpassed in any age or in any 
country ; and among the business classes are Bourse 
speculators, and swindlers who yield in nothing to the 
most infamous in both worlds. Between these two social 



PREFACE. 9 

strata we see a fresh group of combatants appear, who, 
for ten years have astounded all Europe by their energy 
and devotion, as the successors of the literary and political 
opposition of all classes ; of the new Radical writers ; and 
of the first apostles of Socialism in Russia, Herzen and 
Cerniscevsky. 

Hundreds and hundreds of these men, themselves the 
offspring of privilege, go " among the people," carrying 
with them the Gospel of Socialism, the very object of which 
is the destruction of privileges, the privileges, of the classes 
from which they have sprung. Every fresh trial only dis- 
plays more clearly their heroism and their historical mis- 
sion. The Russian Government has recourse to extreme 
measures of repression. It places all Russia under a 
state of siege, and covers it with gibbets. It almost 
forces harmless agitators to take up deadly weapons and 
commence the Terrorist struggle which still continues . 
and certainly no one can say that the victory has remained 
with the Government, if the result of its measures has 
been the slaying of an Emperor, the voluntary seclusion 
of his successor, and the universal disruption of the entire 
Russian social edifice. 

But another fact is perhaps even more significant ; the 
movement has lasted only ten years, and the struggle with 
the Government commenced only five years ago ; but al- 
ready an important change has become apparent in the 
constitution of the militant party. The majority of the 
prisoners whom we see before the tribunals in the trials 
of the Terrorists are no longer apostles who impart ideas 
to the people develoepd in an atmosphere not their own ; 



1Q PREFACE. 

they are men sprung from the people themselves, upon 
whom it used to be said, until lately, the Revolutionary 
propaganda and agitation had taken no hold. 

The Russian Socialist and Revolutionary party is very 
young, but it has, notwithstanding, succeeded in conquer- 
ing a place in history. 

The readers of the work of Stepniak will henceforth 
know what were the elements that gave to these comba- 
tants the strength to transform themselves, in these later 
days, into a party which can call the future its own. The 
new elements, sprung from the people which will come 
forth and join their ranks, are a guarantee of this. 

P. Lavroff. 

London : March 4, 1883 



INTRODUCTION. 

I. 

Turgheneff, the novelist, who will certainly live in his 
writings for many generations, has rendered himself im- 
mortal by a single word. It was he who invented " Nihil- 
ism." At first the word was used in a contemptuous 
sense, but afterwards was accepted from party pride by 
those against whom it was employed, as so frequently has 
occurred in history. 

There would be no need to mention this but for the fact 
that in Europe the party called by this name was not that 
thus called in Russia, but another completely different. 

The genuine Nihilism was a philosophical and literary 
movement, which flourished in the first decade after -the 
Emancipation of the Serfs, that is to say, between^ i860 
and 1870. It is now absolutely extinct, and only a few 
traces are left of it, which are rapidly disappearing • for, 
with the feverish life of the last few years, a decade in 
Russia may really be considered as a period of at least 
from thirty to fifty years. 

Nihilism was a struggle for the emancipation of intelli- 
gence from every kind of dependence, and it advanced 



I4 INTRODUCTION. 

side by side with that for the emancipation of the laboring 
classes from serfdom. 

The fundamental principle of Nihilism, properly so 
called, was absolute individualism. It was the negation, 
in the name of individual liberty, of all the obligations 
imposed upon the individual by society, by family life, and 
and by religion. Nihilism was a passionate and powerful 
reaction, not against political depotism, but against the 
moral despotism that weighs upon the private and inner 
life of the individual. 

But it must be confessed that our predecessors, at least 
m the earlier days, introduced into this highly pacific 
struggle the same spirit of rebellion and almost the same 
fanaticism that characterizes the present movement. I 
will here indicate the general character of this struggle, 
because it is really a prelude to the great drama, the last 
act of which is being enacted in the Empire of the Night. 

The first battle was fought in the domain of religion. 
But this was neither long nor obstinate. It was gained, 
so to speak, in a single assault ; for there is no country in 
the world where, among the cultivated classes, religion 
has such little root as in Russia. The past generation 
was partly Christian by custom, and partly atheist by cul- 
ture. But when once this band of young writers, armed 
with the natural sciences and positive philosophy, full of 
talent, of fire, and of the ardor of proselytism, was im- 
pelled to the assault, Christianity fell like an old, decaying 
hovel, which remains standing because no one touches it. 

The materialist propaganda was carried on in two 
modes, which by turns supplemented and supported each 



INTRODUCTION. 15 

other. Indirectly by means of the press, works being trans- 
lated or written which furnished the most irrefutable argu- 
ments against every religious system, against free-will, and 
against the supernatural. In order to avoid the clutches 
of the censorship, passages which were too clear were veiled 
under certain obscure words which, with an ardent and at- 
tentive reader, brought out the ideas even more distinctly. 

The oral propaganda, employing the arguments de- 
veloped by the instructed, drew from them their logical 
consequences, flinging aside the reticence imposed upon 
the writers. Atheism excited people like a new religion. 
The zealous went about, like veritable missionaries, in 
search of living souls, in order to cleanse them from the 
" abomination of Christianity." The secret press was even 
set to work, and BucJiiiex!s_hoo.k u Force and Matter," in 
which the German philosopher directly attacks the Chris- 
tian theology, was translated and lithographed. The book 
was secretly circulated, not without a certain amount of 
danger, and was highly successful. Some pushed their 
ardor so far as to carry on the propaganda among the 
young pupils of the schools. 

One day there fell into my hands an " open letter" of 
B. Zaizeff, one of the contributors to the " Russkoi i Slovo," 
a widely popular paper of that period. In this " letter," 
intended for the secret press, the author, speaking of that 
time, and of the charges brought against the Nihilists of 
those days by the Nihilists of the present day, says, " I 
swear to you by everything which I hold sacred, that we 
were not egotists as you call us. It was an error, I admit, 
but we were profoundly convinced that we were fighting 



1 6 INTR OD UC TION. 

for the happiness of human nature, and every one of us 
would have gone to the scaffold and would have laid down 
his life for Moleschott or Darwin." The remark made me 
smile. The reader, also, will perhaps smile at it, but it is 
profoundly sincere and truthful. Had things reached such 
an extremity, the world would perhaps have seen a spec- 
tacle at once tragic and comical ; martyrdom to prove that 
Darwin was right and Cuvier wrong, as two centuries pre- 
viously the priest Abbaco and his disciples went to the 
stake, and mounted the scaffold, in support of their view, 
that Jesus should be written with one J instead of two, as 
in Greek ; and that the Halleluiah should be sung three 
times and not twice, as in the State Church. It is a fact, 
highly characteristic of the Russian mind, this tendancy to 
become excited even to fanaticism, about certain things 
which would simply meet with approval or disapproval from 
a man of Western Europe. 

But, in the case to which we are referring, things went 
very smoothly. There was no one to defend the altars of 
the gods. Among us, fortunately, the clergy never had any 
spiritual influence, being extremely ignorant and completely 
absorbed in family affairs, the priests being married men. 
What could the Government do against a purely intellec- 
tual movement which found expression in no external act ? 

The battle was gained almost without trouble, and with- 
out effort ; definitely, absolutely gained. Among people 
in Russia with any education at all, a man now who is not 
a materialist, a thorough materialist, would really be a 
curiosity. 

The victory was of the highest importance. Absolute 



INTRO D I r C TION. 1 7 

atheism is the sole inheritance hat has been preserved in- 
tact by the new generation, and I need scarcely point out 
how much advantage the modern revolutionary movement 
has derived from it. 

But Nihilism proclaimed war not only against religion, 
but against everything that was not based upon pure and 
positive. ..reason. This tendency, right enough in itself, was 
carried by the Nihilists of i860 to such lengths that it be- 
came absurd. Art, as one of the manifestations of idealism, 
was absolutely renounced by the Nihilists, together with 
everything that excites the sentiment of the beautiful. 

This was one of the fiercest conflicts in which the old 
Nihilism was engaged. One of their fanatics launched the 
famous aphorism that "a shoemaker is superior to Raphael 
because the former makes useful things, while the latter 
makes things that are of no use at all." To an orthodox 
Nihilist, Nature herself was a mere furnisher of materials 
for chemistry and technology. I say nothing of many other 
similar things, which would take too long to enumerate. 



II. 

But there was one question in which Nihilism rendered 
great service to its country. It was the important question 
of woman. Nihilism recognized her as having equal rights 
with man. The intimacy of social intercourse in Russia, 
where there are neither cafes nor clubs, and where the 
drawing-room necessarily becomes the sole place of meet- 
ing, and even more perhaps the new economical position 



, S INTRO D UCTION. 

of the nobles resulting from the emancipation of the serfs, 
gave to the question of the emancipation of woman an im- 
portant development, and secured for her an almost com- 
plete victory. 

Woman is subjugated through love. Every time, there- 
fore, that she arises to claim her rights, it is only natural 
that she should commence by asking for the liberty of love. 
It was thus in ancient days ; it was thus in the France of 
the eighteenth century, and of George Sand, It was thus 
also in Russia. 

But with us the question of the emancipation of woman 
was not confined to the petty right of " free love," which is 
nothing more than the right of always selecting her master. 
It was soon understood that the important thing is to have 
liberty itself, leaving the question of love to individual will : 
and as there is no liberty without economical independence, 
the struggle changed its aspect, and became one for ac- 
quiring free access to superior instruction and to the pro- 
fessions followed by educated men. The struggle was 
long and ardent, for our barbarous and mediaeval family 
life stood in the way. It was maintained very bravely by 
our women, and had the same passionate character as most 
of our recent social stru^les, The woman finallv van- 

SO * J 

quished. The Government itself was compelled to recog- 
nize it. 

No father now threatens to cut off the hair of his 
daughter if she wishes to go to St, Petersburg to study 
medicine, or follow the higher courses there of the other 
sciences. A young girl is no longer compelled to fly from 
her father's house, and the Nihilists no longer need to have 



INTR OD UC TION. 1 9 

recourse to " fictitious marriages " in order to render her 
her own mistress. 

Nihilism had conquered all along the line. 

The Nihilist had only now to rest upon his laurels, The 
first two persons of the trinity of his ideal, as prescribed by 
the "What are we to do ? " — independence of mind and in. 
telligent female company, were within his reach. The 
third, an occupation in accordance with his tastes, is lack- 
ing, but as he is intelligent, and Russia is wanting in edu- 
cated people, he will find it easily. 

" Well, and what will happen afterwards ?" asks a young 
man full of ardor, who has just arrived from some distant 
province, and come to visit his old master. 

" I am happy," replies the latter, 

" Yes," the young man will say to him, " you are happy, I 
see. But how can you be happy when in the country where 
you were born people are dying of hunger, where the Gov- 
ernment takes from the people their last farthing and com 
pels them to go forth and beg for a crust of bread,? Per- 
haps you do not know this ; and if you know it, what have 
you done for your brethren ? Did you not tell me years 
ago that you wished to combat ' for the happiness of hu 
man nature ? ' " 

And the model Nihilist, the Nihilist of Turgheneff, will, 
be troubled by that look which knows nothing of com 
promise ; for the enthusiasm and the faith that animated 
him in the early years of the struggle have vanished with 
victory. He is nothing more than an intelligent and re- 
fined epicure, and his blood circulates languidly in his 
plump body. 



2 o INTR OD UC TION. 

And the young man will go away full of sadness, asking 
himself with an accent of despair the terrible question 
"•What are we to do ? " 

We are now at the year 1881. Through those marvel- 
lous inventions by means of which the man of modern days 
may be called omnipresent, the picture is placed before 
him of an immense city which has risen for a grand idea, 
that of claiming the rights of the people. He follows with 
breathless interest all the vicissitudes of the terrible drama 
which is being enacted upon the banks of the Seine. He sees 
blood flow ; he hears the agonizing cries of women and 
children slaughtered upon the boulevards. But for what 
are they dying ? For what are they weeping ? For the eman 
cipation of the workingman ; for the grand social idea ! 

And at the same time falls upon his ear the plaintive 
song of the Russian peasant ; all wailing and lamentation, 
in which so many ages of suffering seem concentrated. His 
squalid misery, his whole life stands forth full of sorrow, of 
suffering, of outrage. Look at him ; enhausted by hunger 
broken down by toil, the eternal slave of the privileged 
classes, working without pause, without hope of redemp- 
tion ; for the Government purposely keeps him ignorant, 
and every one robs him, every one tramples on him, and no 
one stretches out a hand to assist him. No one ? Not so. 
The young man knows now " what to do." He will stretch 
forth his hand. He will tell the peasant how to free him- 
self and become happy. His heart throbs for this poor 
sufferer, who can only weep. The flush of enthusiasm 
mounts to his brow, and with burning glances he takes in 
his heart a solemn oath to consecrate all his life, all his 



IN TROD UC TION. 2 1 

strength, ill his thoughts, to the liberation of this popula- 
tion, which drains its life-blood, in order that he, the 
favored son of privilege, may live at his ease, study, and 
instruct himself. 

He will tear off the fine clothes that burn into his very 
flesh ; he will put on the rough coat and the wooden shoes 
of the peasant, and, abandoning the splendid paternal pal- 
ace, which oppresses him like the reproach of a crime, he 
will go forth " among the people " in some remote district, 
and there, the slender and delicate descendant of a noble 
race, he will do the hard work of the peasant, enduring 
every privation in order to carry to him the words of re- 
demption, the Gospel of our age, — Socialism. What mat- 
ters to him if the cut-throats of the Government lay hands 
upon him ? What to him are exile, Siberia, death ? Full 
of his sublime idea, clear, splendid, vivifying as the mid- 
day sun, he defies suffering, and would meet death with a 
glance of enthusiasm and a smile of happiness. 

It was thus that the Revolutionary Socialist of 1872- 
74 arose. It was thus that his precursors of 1866 arose, 
the unfortunate karakosovzi, a small nucleus of high intel- 
tectual character which developed under the immediate 
influence of the nascent " Internationale," but had only a 
brief life, and left no traces behind it. 

Here then are the two types that represent the Russian 
intellectual movement. The first, that of the decade 1860- 
70; the second that from 187 1 onwards. 

What a contrast ! 

The Nihilist seeks his own happiness at whatever cost. 
His ideal is a " reasonable " and " realistic " life. The Rev- 



22 INTRODUCTION. 

olutionist seeks the happiness of others at whatever cost, 
sacrificing for it his own. His ideal is a life full of suffer- 
ing, and a martyr's death. 

And yet Fate decreed that the former, who was not 
known and who could not be known in any other country 
than his own, should have no name in Europe, and that 
the latter, having acquired a terrible reputation, should be 
called by the name of the other. What irony 1 



THE PROPAGANDA. 



I 

The Russian Revolutionary movement, as I indicated 
at the commencement of my introduction, was the result 
of the examples and ideas developed in Western Europe, 
acting upon the minds of the youth of Russia, who owing 
to the condition of the country were predisposed to accept 
them with the utmost favor. 

I have now to trace out separately the true influences 
that determined this result, and their respective courses, as 
in the case of a great river, of which we know the source 
and the mouth, without knowing either its precise course, 
or the affluents that have given it such volume. 

The influence of Europe is very easy to investigate, its 
course being so simple and elementary. The communion 
of ideas between Russia and Europe has never been inter- 
rupted, notwithstanding all the preventive measures of the 
censorship. Prohibited books like the works of Proudhon, 
Fourier, Owen, and other old Socialists, were always 
secretly introduced into Russia, even under the Asiatically 
ferocious and suspicious despotism of Nicholas I. 



2 4 INTR OD UC TION. 

But owing to the difficulty of obtaining these precious 
volumes, and to the language which rendered them inac- 
cessible to ordinary readers, they could not directly exer- 
cise a decisive influence. There was, however, an entire 
band of very able writers who, inspired by the ideas of 
Socialism, succeeded in rendering them universally acces- 
sible. At the head of these were the most intellectual men 
of whom Russia can boast : Cerniscevsky, a profound 
thinker and economist of wide knowledge, a novelist, a 
pungent polemist, who paid the penalty of his noble mis- 
sion with a martyrdom, which still continues ; DobrolinbofT, 
a critic of genius, who died at twenty-six after having 
shaken all Russia with his immortal writings ; Micailoff, a 
professor and writer, condemned to hard labor for a speech 
to the students — and many,many others. Hertzen and Oga- 
reff, editors of the first free newspaper in the Russian lan- 
guage — the " Kolokol " of London — brought from abroad 
their precious tribute to this movement. These were the 
real apostles of the new doctrine, who prepared the ground 
for the modern movement, having Educated the entire gen- 
eration of 1870 in the principles of Socialism. With the 
Paris Commune, which had such a formidable echo through- 
out the whole world, Russian Socialism entered upon its 
belligerent phase, and from the study and the private gath- 
ering passed to the workshop and the village. 

There were many causes which determined the youth 
of Russia to accept so eagerly the principles of the revo- 
lutionary Socialism proclaimed by the Commune. I can 
merely indicate them here. The ill-fated Crimean War 
having ruthlessly demonstrated the rottenness of the whole 



THE PROPAGANDA. 25 

Russian social edifice, it was essential to provide a remedy 
as expeditiously as possible. But the work of the regen- 
eration of the country, directed by the hand of an auto- 
cratic Emperor, who wished to preserve everything ; both 
his sacred " rights " (the first to be abolished), and the pre- 
rogatives of the class of the nobles, in order to have their 
support because he feared the revolution — such a work 
could only be imperfect, hypocritical, contradictory, an 
abortion. We will not criticise it, especially as there is no 
need to do so, for all the newspapers, including the " Offi- 
cial Gazette," now repeat in various tones what the Social- 
ists have been so much reviled for declaring, that all the 
reforms of Alexander II. proved utterly inefficient, and 
that the famous emancipation of the serfs only changed 
their material condition for the worse, the terms of 
redemption fixed for the scrap of land bestowed upon 
them being onerous beyond measure. 

The wretched condition, every day growing worse, of. 
the peasants, that is to say, of nine-tenths of the entire 
population, could not fail to cause serious reflection to all 
those who had at heart the future of the country. It was 
essential to seek a remedy for this, and it may fairly be 
assumed that the public mind would have turned to legal 
and pacific means if, after having liberated the peasants 
from the bondage of their lords, the Emperor Alexander 
II. had liberated Russia from his own bondage, bestowing 
upon her some kind of Constitution which would have 
made her the arbitei of her own destinies, or at least have 
afforded her the' hope of one day becoming so. But this 
was precisely what he would not do on any account, 



26 INTRODUCTION. 

Autocracy having retained all its power nothing could be 
hoped for except from the good-will of the Emperor, and 
this hope went on diminishing as the years passed by. 
Alexander II. as a reformer stood the test only for a few 
years. 

The insurrection in Poland, stifled with a ferocity 
known to all, was the signal for reaction, which grew more 
furious day by day. There was nothing to hope for in 
legal and pacific means. Everything must be uncom- 
plainingly endured, or other ways of saving the country 
must be sought for. All those who had a heart in their 
breasts naturally clung to the latter course. 

Thus, as the reaction grew more furious, the revolu 
tionary excitement became more manifest, and secret so- 
cieties swarmed in all the principal cities. The revolver 
shot of Karakosoff which resulted from that excitement 
was a terrible warning to the Emperor Alexander II. But 
he would not understand. Nay, after 1866, the reaction 
redoubled its fury. In a few months everything that still 
maintained a semblance of the Liberalism of the early 
years of the reign was swept away. It was a veritable 
" Dance Macabre," a veritable " White Terror." 

II. 

After 1866 a man must have been either blind or hypo- 
critical to believe in the possibility of any improvement, 
except by violent means. The revolutionary ferment 
visibly increased, and only a spark was wanting to change 
the latent aspirations into a general movement. As I 



THE PROPAGANDA. 27 

have already said, the Paris Commune supplied it. It was 
immediately after the Commune, that is to say toward the 
end of the year 1871, that the Society of the " Dolgus- 
cinzi" was formed at Moscow; and in 1872 the important 
society was organized at St. Petersburg of the " Ciaikovzi," 
which had its ramifications at Moscow, Kieft Odessa, 
Orel, and Taganrog. The object of both was to carry on 
the Socialist and revolutionary propaganda among the 
workmen and peasants. I say nothing of many small 
bodies that were formed with the same object in the prov- 
inces, or of many isolated individuals who then went forth 
" among the people," in order to carry on the propaganda. 
The movement was entirely spontaneous, and was simply 
the necessary result of the condition of Russia, seen under 
the influence of the Parisian movement, through the prism 
of the Socialist ideas disseminated by Cerniscevsky and 
Dobrolinbofr". 

But a most powerful current which came from abroad 
very soon united with this native current. It was that of 
the " Internationale," which, as is well known, had its own 
greatest development in the years immediately succeeding 
the Paris Commune. Here, also, two separate courses of 
transmission should be distinguished : the first, literary ; 
the second, personal and immediate. Two writers — the 
great Michael Bacunin, the genius of destruction, the 
principal founder of the anarchical or federalistic " Inter 
nationale," and Peter Lavroff, the distinguished philoso 
pher and writer, rendered great service to our cause with 
their pens ; the former as the author of a book upon the 
Revolution, and Federalism, in which, with inimitable 



28 INTRODUCTION. 

clearness and power, the ardent tribune and daring thinker 
developed his ideas upon the necessity of an immediate 
popular revolution ; the latter as editor of a review, the 
" Vperiod " (Onward), written, for the most part, by him- 
self with unwearied application and erudition. However 
divergent on certain points — Bacunin being an ardent 
defender of the extreme party of the " Internationale," 
and Lavroff being rather inclined towards the more 
moderate party — the two writers recognized the populai 
revolution as the sole means of effectively changing the 
insufferable condition of the Russian people. 

But the " Internationale " also had a direct influence 
upon the Russian movement. Here I must retrace my 
steps for a moment, as the revolutionary movement touches 
at this point the individual movement of Nihilism, prop- 
erly so-called, of which I spoke in my Introduction. The 
struggle for the emancipation of woman having been 
fused with that of the right to higher education, and there 
being in Russia neither college nor university which 
would accept women as students, they resolved to go and 
seek in distant countries the knowledge denied to them in 
their own. Free Switzerland, which shuts out no one 
from its frontiers or its schools, was the favorite country 
of these new pilgrims, and the famous city of Zurich was 
their Jerusalem. From all parts of Russia — from the plains 
of the placid Volga; from the Caucasus; from distant 
Siberia — young girls of scarcely sixteen, with scanty lug- 
gage and slender means, went forth alone into an unknown 
country, eager for the knowledge which alone could insure 
them the independence they coveted. But, on arriving in 



THE PROPAGANDA. 29 

the country of their dreams, they found not only schools 
of medicine there, but also a great social movement of 
which many had no conception. And here once more the 
difference became apparent between the old Nihilism and 
the Socialism of the modern generation. 

"What is all this knowledge,'" the young girls asked 
themselves, " but a means of acquiring a more advanta- 
geous positon among the privileged classes to which we al- 
ready belong ? Who except ourselves will derive any ad- 
vantage from it : and if no one does, what is the difference 
between us and the swarm of bloodsuckers who live by 
the sweat and tears of our poor fellow-countrymen ? 

And the young srirls deserted medicine, and be^an to 
frequent the sittings of the " Internationale " and to study 
political economy, and the works of Marx, Bacunin, Proud- 
hon, and of all the founders of European Socialism. In a 
short time the city of Zurich from being a place of study 
was transformed into an immense permament Club. Its 
fame -spread throughout all Russia, and attracted to it 
hundreds and hundreds of persons, men and women. It 
was then that the Imperial government, as a supreme 
precaution, issued the stupid and shameful Ukase of the 
year 1873, ordering all Russians, under pain of outlawry, 
to immediately abandon the terrible city of Zurich. The 
engineer was hoist with his own petard. Among the 
young Russians assembled there, plans, more or less 
vague, were formed to return home in order to earn- on 
the Intefnationlist propaganda. The Ukase had this 
effect, that, instead of returning separately in the course 
of several years, almost all returned at once in a body. 



3° 



INTRODUCTION. 



Eagerly welcomed by their companions, they everywhere 
carried on the most ardent Internationalist propaganda. 

III. 

Thus in the winter of 1872, in one of the hovels in the 
outskirts of St. Petersburg, a number of working men 
gathered round (Prince) Peter Krapotkine, w T ho expounded 
to them the principles of Socialism, and of the revolution. 
The rich Cossack Obuchoff, though consumptive and dy- 
ing, did the same upon the banks of his native Don. An 
officer, Leonidas Sciscko, became a hand-weaver in one of 
the St. Petersburg manufactories, in order to carry on the 
propaganda there. Two other members of the same 
society — an officer, Demetrius Rogaceff, who afterwards 
inspired so much terror, and a friend — went into the prov- 
ince of Tver as sawyers, for the purpose of carrying on 
the propaganda there among the peasants. In the winter 
of 1873, in consequence of the delation of a landowner of 
the district, these two were arrested. After having es- 
caped by the aid of the peasants from the hands of the 
police, they reached Moscow, in order to carry on the prop- 
aganda among the youth of that city. There they found 
two women who had just arrived from Zurich with the same 
object. Thus the two currents, the home and foreign, met 
each other at every point, and both led to the same result. 
The books said : " The hour of the destruction of the old 
bourgeois world has sounded. A new world, based upon 
the fraternity of all men, in which there will no longer be 
either misery or tears, is about to arise upon its ruins. Up 



THE PROPAGANDA. 3! 

and be doing ! All hail to the Revolution, the sole means 
of realizing this golden ideal." 

The men and women who had come back from abroad 
inflamed the public mind with the recital of the great 
struggle already undertaken by the proletariat of the West; 
of the " Internationale " and of its great promoters ; of 
the Commune and its martyrs ; and prepared to go 
" among the people " with their new proselytes in order 
to put their ideas in practice. And both turned anxiously 
to those, who were few then, who had come back from the 
work of propagandism, to ask them what were these 
powerful and mysterious beings — the people — whom their 
fathers taught them to fear, and whom, without knowing, 
they already loved with all the impetuosity of their youth- 
ful hearts. And those appealed to, who just before had 
the same mistrust and the same apprehensions, said, over- 
flowing with exultation, that the terrible people were good, 
simple, trusting as children ; that they not only did not 
mistrust, but welcomed them with open arms and hearts ; 
that they listened to their words with the deepest sympa- 
thy, and that old and young after a long day of toil pressed 
attentively around them in some dark and smoky hovel, in 
which, by the uncertain light of a chip of resinous wood 
in place of a candle, they spoke of Socialism, or read one 
of the few propagandist books which they had brought ; 
that the communal assemblies were broken up when they 
came into the villages, as the peasants abandoned the 
meetings to come and listen. And after having depicted 
all the terrible sufferings of these unhappy people, seen 
with their own eyes, heard with their own ears, they told 



3 2 INTR OB UC TION. 

of little signs and tokens, exaggerated perhaps by their 
imaginations, which showed that these people could not be 
so dispirited as was believed, and that there were indica- 
tions and rumors denoting that their patience was coming 
to an end, and that some great storm was felt to be ap- 
proaching. 

All these numerous and powerful influences, acting 
upon the impressionable minds, so prone to enthusiasm, 
of the Russian youth, produced that vast movement of 
1873-74 which inaugurated the new Russian revolutionary 
era. 

Nothing similar had been seen before, nor since. It 
was a revelation, rather than a propaganda. At first the 
book, or the individual, could be traced out, that had im- 
pelled such or such a person to join the movement ; but 
after some time this became impossible. It was a power 
ful cry which arose no one knew where, and summoned 
the ardent to the great work of the redemption of the 
country and of humanity. And the ardent, hearing this 
cry, arose, overflowing with sorrow and indignation for 
their past life, and abandoning home, wealth, honors, family, 
threw themselves into the movement with a joy, an en- 
• thusiasm, a faith, such as are experienced only once in a 
life, and when lost are never found again. 

I will not speak of the many, many young men and 
young women of the most aristocratic families, who labored 
for fifteen hours a day in the factories, in the workshops, 
in the fields. Youth is always generous and ready for 
sacrifice. The characteristic fact was that the contagion 
spread, even to people in years*, who had already a future 



THE PROPAGANDA, 33 

clearly marked out and a position gained by the sweat of 
their brows : judges, doctors, officers, officials ; and thes« 
were not among the least ardent. 

Yet it was not a political movement. It rather resembled 
a religious movement, and had all the contagious and ab- 
sorbing character of one. People not only sought to attain a 
distinct practical object, but also to satisfy an inward senti- 
ment of duty, an aspiration towards their own moral per- 
fection. 

But this noble movement, in contact with harsh reality, 
was shattered like a precious Sevres vase, struck by a 
heavy and dirty stone. 

Not that the Russian peasant had shown himself in- 
different or hostile to Socialism ; quite the contrary. For a 
Russian peasant who has his old " obscina " (rural com. 
mime) with the collective property of the land, and his " mir " 
or "gromada" (communal assembly), which exclusively 
controls all the communal affairs, the principles of scientific 
combination and federalism were only a logical and natural 
deduction from the institutions to which he had been ac- 
customed for so many ages. In fact there is no country in 
the world where the peasantry would be so ready to accept 
the principles of Federative Socialism as Russia. Some 
of our old Socialists — for example Bacunin — even deny 
the necessity for any Socialist propaganda whatever among 
the Russian peasants, declaring that they already possess 
all the fundamental elements, and that, therefore if sum- 
moned to an immediate revolution, it would not be other 
than a social revolution. But a revolution always requires 
a powerful organization, which can only be formed by a 



34 INTRODUCTION. 

propaganda, either Socialist or purely revolutionary. As 
this could not be openly carried on, it was necessary to 
have recourse to a secret propaganda ; and that was abso- 
lutely impossible in our villages. 

Every one who settles there, whether as artisan, or as 
communal teacher, or clerk, is immediately under the eyes 
of all. He is observed, and his every movement is watched 
as though he were a bird in a glass cage. Then too, the 
peasant is absolutely incapable of keeping secret the prop- 
aganda in his midst. How can you expect him not to 
speak to his neighbor, whom he has known for so many 
years, of a fact so extraordinary as the reading of a book, 
especially when it concerns a matter which appears to him 
so just, good, and natural as that which the Socialist tells 
him about ? Thus, whenever a propagandist visits any of 
his friends, the news immediately spreads throughout the 
village, and half an hour afterwards the hovel is full of 
bearded peasants, who hasten to listen to the new-comer 
without warning either him or his host. When the hovel 
is too little to hold all this throng, he is taken to the com- 
munal house, or into the open air, where he reads his books, 
and makes his speeches under the roof of heaven. 

It is quite evident that, with these customs, the Govern- 
ment would have no difficulty in hearing of the' agitation 
which was being carried on among the peasants. Arrest 
followed arrest, thick and fast. Thirty-seven provinces 
were " infected " by the Socialist contagion, as a Govern- 
ment circular declares. The total number of the arrests 
was never known. In a single trial, which lasted four 



THE PROPAGANDA. 35 

years, that of " the 193," they reached, according to the 
official statistics, about a thousand. 

But legion after legion boldly descended into the lists, 
when, owing to the number of the fallen, the battle seemed 
to be slackening. The movement lasted for two years 
with various degrees of intensity. But the fact had at last 
to be recognized, that it was like running one's head against 
a wall. 

In the year 1875 the movement changed its aspect. 
The propaganda amongst the masses, the only one, that is, 
which could stir them, was abandoned, and in its place the 
so-called "colonization" (poscknia) entered the field ; that 
is, the grouping together of an entire nucleus of propagan- 
dists in a given province, or, rather, in a given district. 

In order to avoid the rocks which had wrecked the 
movement of the previous years, the colonists proceeded 
very cautiously, endeavoring rather to avoid observation, to 
-make no stir, to carry on their agitation only among those 
peasants with whom they were thoroughly acquainted as 
cautious and prudent people. The colonies, being much 
less exposed to the chance of discovery, held their ground 
with varying fortunes for several years, and in part still 
continue, but without any result. Evidently, however, 
they could not do much owing to the immensity of Russia, 
and the necessity of deliberately restraining their own 
activity, even in the districts chosen. 

IV. 

The trials of the agitators which took place in the 
years 1S77 and 1S78 indicated the end of this first period 



36 INTRODUCTION. 

of revolutionary activity in Russia, and at the same time 

were its apotheosis. 

The Russian Government, wishing to follow in the steps 
of the second French Empire, which knew so well how to 
deal with the Red spectre, ordered that the first great trial 
— that of the so-called Fifty of the Society of Moscow — ► 
should be public, hoping that the terrified bourgeois would 
draw more closely around the throne and abandon their 
liberal tendencies, which were already beginning to show 
themselves. 

But no. Even those who could not but consider such 
men as enemies were bewildered at the sight of so much 
self-sacrifice. 

" They are saints." Such was the exclamation, re- 
peated in a broken voice, by those were present at this 
memorable trial. 

The monster trial of the 193 of the following year only 
confirmed this opinion. 

And, in fact, everything that is noble and sublime in 
human nature seemed concentrated in these generous young 
men. Inflamed, subjugated by their grand idea, they 
wished to sacrifice for it, not only their lives, their 
future, their position, but their very souls. They 
sought to purify themselves from every other thought, from 
all personal affections, in order to be entirely, exclusively 
devoted to it. Rigorism was elevated into a dogma. For 
several years, indeed, even absolute asceticism*was ardent- 

* Hence arose the ridiculous confusion of the Nihilists with the 
KQi>ti a fanatical body who mutilated tkemselvcs 



THE PROPAGANDA. 37 

ly maintained among the youth of both sexes. The prop- 
agandists wished nothing for themselves. They were the 
purest personification of self-denial. 

But these beings were too ideal for the terrible strug- 
gle which was about to commence. The type of the prop- 
agandist of the first lustre of the last decade was religious 
rather than revolutionary. His faith was Socialism. His 
god the people. Not withstanding all the evidence to the 
contrary, he firmly believed that, from one clay to the other, 
the revolution was about to break out ; as in the Middle 
Ages people believed at certain periods in the approach of 
the day of judgment. Inexorable reality struck a terrible 
blow at his enthusiasm and faith, disclosing to him his god as 
it really is, and not as he had pictured it. He was as ready 
for sacrifice as ever. But he had neither the impetuosity 
nor the ardor of the struggle. After the first disenchant- 
ment he no longer saw any hope in victory, and longed for 
the crown of thorns rather than that of laurel. He went forth 
to martyrdom with the serenity of a Christian of the early 
ages, and he suffered it with a calmness of mind — nay, with a 
certain rapture, for he knew he was suffering for his faith. 
He was full of love, and had no hatred for any one, not 
even his executioners. 

Such was the propagandist of 1872-75. This type was 
too ideal to withstand the fierce and imminent conflict. It 
must change or disappear. 

Already another was arising in its place. Upon the 
horizon there appeared a gloomy form, illuminated by a 
light as of hell, who, with lofty bearing, and a look brer/!; 



3 S LVTK0DUCT10N. 

mg forth hatred and defiance, made his way through the 
terrified crowd to enter with a firm step upon the scene of 
history. 

It was the Terrorist. 



THE TERRORISM. 



I, 

The years 1876 and 1877 were the darkest and most 
mournful for the Russian Socialists. The propagandist 
movement cost immense sacrifices. An entire generation 
was mown clown by Despotism in a fit of delirous fear. The 
prisons were crammed with propagandists. New prisons 
were built. And the result of so much sacrifice ? Oh, 
how petty it was compared with the immense effort ! 

What could the few working men and peasants do who 
were inflamed by Socialist ideas ! What could the " col- 
onies" do, dispersed here and there ? 

The past was sad ; the future gloomy and obscure. 
But the movement could not stop. The public mind, over- 
stimulated and eager to act, only sought some other means 
of attaining the same end. 

But to find one was very difficult under the conditions 
in which Russia was placed. Long and arduous was this 
work; many were its victims ; for it was like endeavor- 
ing to issue from some gloomy cavern, full of dangers and 
pitfalls, in which every step costs many lives, and the cries 
of fallen brethren are the sole indication for the survivors, 
of the path to be followed. 



4 o INTR OD UC TION. 

The propagandist movement was a sublime test of the 
power of Words. By a natural reaction the opposite 
course was now to be tried, that of Acts. 

" We did not succeed because we were mere talkers, 
incapable of real work." 

Such was the bitter reproach of the survivors of the 
great movement, confronted with the new revolutionary 
generation which had arisen to occupy the place of the pre- 
ceding ; and the cry of "Let us act" became as general as 
that of " among the people" had been a few years before 

But what kind of action was to be taken ? 

Impelled by their generous desire to do everything for 
the people, and for the people only, Revolutionists en- 
deavored, above all things, to organize, some insurrection- 
ary movement among the people. The first societies of the 
so-called " buntari" (fanatics) of Kieff, Odessa, and Karkoff, 
the fixed object of which was an immediate rising, date 
from the year 1875. But a revolution, like a popular move- 
ment, is of spontaneous growth, and cannot be forced. 
One attempt alone — that of Stefan'ovic — very skilfully 
based upon local agitation and aspirations, succeeded in 
making some few steps, at least, towards the object. 
The others had not even this success. They were dis- 
covered and dissolved before giving effect to their san- 
guinary projects. 

In the towns the same tendency manifested itself in 
another form ; the Revolutionists made their first essays in 
street demonstrations. 

The years 1876, 1877, and the early months of 1878 
were periods of " demonstrations" more or less energetic ; 



THE TERRORISM. 4 ! 

such as the funeral of CerniscefT and Padlevsky, the 
demonstration of Kazan, which had such a tragical ending, 
and, finally, that of Odessa, on the day of the condemna- 
tion of Kovalsky, which was a veritable battle, with dead 
and wounded on both sides, and several hundred arrests. 

It was evident that by this path there could be no 
advance. The disproportion between the material forces 
at the disposition of the revolutionary party and those of 
the Government was too great for these demonstrations to 
be other than voluntary sacrifices of the flower of the 
Russian youth to the Imperial Moloch. With us a revolu- 
tion, or even a rising of any importance, like those in 
Paris, is absolutely impossible. Our towns constitute 
only a tenth of the entire population ; and most of them 
are only large villages, miles and miles apart. The real 
towns, those for instance of 10,000 or 15,000 inhabitants, 
form only four or five per cent, of the entire population, 
that is about three or four millions in all. And the 
Government, which has under its orders the military con- 
tingent of the entire population, that is 1,200,000 soldiers, 
can transform the five or six principal towns, the only 
places where any movement whatever is possible, into 
veritable military camps, as indeed they are. 

This is a consideration which should alwavs be borne 
in mind, in order to understand the cause of everything that 
has since happened. 

Demonstrations of every kind were abandoned, and 
from the year 1S78 entirely disappeared. 

But a noteworthy change in the revolutionary type 
dates from this period. The Revolutionist was no longer 



42 INTRODUCTION, 

what he had been five years before. He had not yet 
revealed himself by any daring acts ; but by dint of con. 
stantly meditating upon them, by repeating that bullets 
were better than words, by nourishing sanguinary projects 
in his mind, something of their spirit entered into his dis- 
position. Thus the man was formed. And the Govern- 
ment did everything it could to develop still more these 
nascent tendencies of his and force him to translate them 
into acts. 

The merest suspicion led to arrest. An address ; a 
letter from a friend who had gone " among the people ; " 
a word let fall by a lad of twelve who, from excess of fear, 
knew not what to reply, were sufficient to cast the sus- 
pected person into prison, where he languished for years 
and years, subjected to all the rigor of the Russian 
cellular system. To give an idea of this it need only be 
mentioned that, in the course of the investigations in the 
trial of the 193, which lasted four years, the number of 
the prisoners who committed suicide, or went mad, or died, 
reached 75. 

The sentences of the exceptional tribunal, which was 
simply a docile instrument in the hands of the Govern- 
ment, were of an incredible cruelty. Ten, twelve, 
fifteen years of hard labor were inflicted, or two or 
three speeches, made in private to a handful of working 
men, or for a single book read or lent. Thus what is 
freely done in every country ii; Europe was punished 
among us like murder. 

But not satisfied with these judicial atrocities, the 
Government, by infamous orders, augmented still more the 



TTTE TERRORISM. 43 

sufferings of the political prisoners,.. so that in the House of 
Horrors — the central prison of Karkoff— several " revolts" 
took place among them in order to obtain equality of treat- 
ment with those condemned for common crimes. Such 
was their condition ! And from time to time, by ways 
which only prisoners know how to find out, there came 
from these men buried alive some letter, written on a 
scrap of paper in which tobacco or a candle had been 
wrapped up, describing the infamous treatment, the vile 
and useless cruelty, which their gaolers had inflicted upon 
them, in order to curry favor with superiors ; and these 
letters passed from hand to hand, and this information 
passed from mouth to mouth, causing tears of grief and 
rage, and arousing in the most gentle and tender minds 
thoughts of blood, of hatred, and of vengeance. 



II. 

The first sanguinary events took place a year before 
the Terrorism was erected into a system. They were 
isolated cases, without any political importance, but they 
clearly showed that the efforts of the Government had be- 
gun to bear fruit, and that the " milk of love" of the 
Socialists of the previous lustre was already becoming 
changed, little by little into the gall of hatred. Sprung 
from personal resentment, it was directed against the 
more immediate enemies, the spies, and in various parts 
of Russia some half-dozen of them were killed. 

These first acts of bloodshed evidently could not stop 
there. If time were consumed in killing a vile spy, why at 



44 INTRODUCTION. 

low the gendarme to live on with impunity who sent him 
forth, or the procurator who from the information of th« 
spy obtained materials for ordering the arrest, or the head 
of the police who directed everything? The logic of life 
could not but compel the Revolutionaries to mount these 
steps by degrees, and it cannot be doubted that they would 
have done so, for the Russian may be wanting in many 
things, but not in the courage to be logical. Nay, one of 
the most striking peculiarities of the Russian character is 
that it never hesitates before the practical consequences of 
a chain of reasoning. 

There was, however, a fact of primary importance 
which gave such a strong impetus to the movement, that 
this step, which otherwise would perhaps have required 
several years, was taken at a single bound. 

On January 24 of the year 1878, the memorable shot 
was fired by the revolver of Vera Zassulic against General 
TrepofT, who had ordered a political prisoner named 
Bogoluiboff to be Hogged, Two months afterwards she 
was acquitted by the jury. 

I need not narrate the details of the occurrence, nor 
those of the trial, nor insist upon their importance. Every 
one understood them, and even now, four years afterwards, 
every one remembers that wave of admiration which in- 
vaded every heart, without distinction of party, of class, 
or of age. It is easy to imagine what it must have been in 
Russia. 

Zassulic was not a terrorist. She was the angel of ven- 
geance, and not of terror. She was a victim who volun- 
tarily threw herself into the jaws of the monster in order to 



THE TERRORISM. 4S 

cleanse the honor of the party from a mortal outrage. It 
was evident that if every infamous act had to await its 
Zassulic, he who committed it might sleep in peace, and di« 
hoary-headed. 

Yet this occurrence gave to the Terrorism a most 
powerful impulse. It illuminated it with its divine 
aureola, and gave to it the sanction of sacrifice and of pub- 
lic opinion. 

The acquittal of Zassulic was a solemn condemnation 
of the entire arbitrary system which had impelled her to 
raise her avenging hand against the bully. The press~and 
the public were unanimous in confirming the sentence of 
the jury. 

And how did the Government receive the judgment of 
the nation ? 

The Emperor Alexander II. went in person to pay a 
visit .to Trepoff, covered with so much ignominy, and ran- 
sacked the whole city in search of the acquitted Zassulic, 
in order to put hen- again in prison. 

It was impossible to show a more impudent contempt 
for justice, and the universal feeling. 

The general discontent grew beyond measure, for 
to the sting of the outrage was added the pang of decep- 
tion. 

Here I ought to stop for a moment to analyze the 
purely Liberal movement which germinated among the 
cultivated and privileged classes of Russian society at the 
commencement of the reign. Being unable to do this even 
briefly, I will merely say, that the event which imparted to 
it the greatest intensity was the war with Turkey, because 



4 g INTRODUCTION. 

it laid bare, like that of the Crimea, the shameful \{\ m 
of our social system, and awakened hopes of a nc - 
organization of the State, especially after the Constitution 
which Alexander II. gave to Bulgaria. 

The return of the Emperor to his capital exactly 
coincided with the trial of Zassulic. 

The Liberals awoke from their dreams. It was then 
that they turned in despair to the only party which was 
struggling against despotism, the Socialist party. The 
first efforts of the Liberal party to approach the Revolu- 
tionaries in order to form an alliance with them date from 
1S78. 

III. 

The Government, however, seemed bent on exaspera- 
ting not only the Liberals but also the Revolutionists. With 
a vile desire for vengeance, it redoubled its cruelty against 
the Socialists, whom it had in its power. The Emperor 
Alexander II. even went so far as to annul the sentence of 
his own Senate, which, under the form of a petition 
for pardon, acquitted most of- the accused in the trial of 
the 193. 

What government, therefore, was this which acted so 
insolently against all the laws of the country, which was 
not supported, and did not wish to be supported, by the 
nation, or by any class, or by the laws which it had made 
itself ? What did it represent except brute force ? 

Against such a Government everything is permitted. 
It is no longer a guardian of the will of the people, or of 



THE TERRORISM. 47 

the majority of the people. It is organized injustice. A 
citizen is no more bound to respect it, than to respect a 
band of highwaymen who employ the force at their com- 
mand in rifling travellers. 

But how shake off this camarilla entrenched behind a 
forest of bayonets ? How free the country from it ? 

It being absolutely impossible to overcome this obstacle 
by force, as in other countries more fortunate than ours, a 
flank movement was necessary, so as to fall upon this 
camarilla before it could avail itself of its forces, thus ren- 
dered useless in their impregnable positions. 

Thus arose the Terrorism. 

Conceived in hatred, nurtured by patriotism and by 
hope, it grew up in the electrical atmosphere, impregnated 
with the enthusiasm awakened by an act of heroism. 

On August 16, 1878, that is five months after the ac- 
quittal cf Zassulic, the Terrorism, by putting to death Gen- 
eral Mesentzeff, the head of the police and of the entire 
camarilla, boldly threw down its glove in the face of auto- 
cracy. I 7 rom that day forth it advanced with giant strides 
acquiring strength and position, and culminating in the 
tremendous duel with the man who was the personification 
of despotism. 

I will not relate its achievements, for they are written 
in letters of fire upon the records of history. 

Three times the adversaries met face to face. Three 
times the Terrorist, by the will of fate, was overthrown, but 
after each defeat he arose more threatening and powerful 
than before. To the attempt of Solovieff succeeded ' that 
of Hartman, which was followed by the frightful explosion 



4$ INTRODUCTION. 

at the Winter Palace, the infernal character of which 
seemed to surpass everything the imagination could con- 
ceive. But it was surpassed on March 13. Once more 
the adversaries grappled with each other, and this time the 
omnipotent Emperor fell half dead to the ground. 

The Terrorist had won the victory in his tremendous 
duel, which had cost so many sacrifices. With a whole 
nation prostrate he alone held high his head, which 
throughout so many tempests he had never bent. 

He is noble, terrible, irresistibly fascinating, for he 
combines in himself the two sublimities of human gran- 
deur : the martyr and the hero. 

He is a martyr. From the day when he swears in the 
depths of his heart to free the people and the country, he 
knows he is consecrated to Death. He faces it at every 
step of his stormy life. He goes forth to meet it fearlessly, 
when necessary, and can die without flinching, not like a 
Christian of old, but like a warrior accustomed to look 
death in the face. 

He has no longer any religious feeling in his disposi- 
tion. He is a wrestler, all bone and muscle, and has 
nothing in common with the dreamy idealist of the pre- 
vious lustre. He is a mature man, and the unreal dreams 
of his youth have disappeared with years. He is a Socialist 
fatally convinced, but he understands that a Social Revolu- 
tion requires long preparatory labor, which cannot be 
given until political liberty is acquired. Modest and reso- 
lute, therefore, he clings to the resolution to limit for the 
present his plans that he may extend them afterwards. He 



THE TERRORISM. 49 

has no other object than to overthrow this abhorred des- 
potism, and to give to his country, what all civilized 
nations possess, political liberty, to enable it to advance 
with a firm step towards its own redemption. The force 
of mind, the indomitable energy, and the spirit of sacrifice 
which his predecessor attained in the beauty of his dreams, 
he attains in the grandeur of his mission, in the strong 
# passions which this marvellous, intoxicating, vertiginous 
struggle arouses in his heart. 

What a spectacle ! When had such a spectacle been 
seen before ? Alone, obscure, poor, he undertook to be 
the defender of outraged humanity, of right trampled 
under foot, and he challenged to the death the most pow 
erful Empire in the world, and for years and years con- 
fronted all its immense forces. 

Proud as Satan rebelling against God, he opposed his 
own will to that of the man who alone, amid a nation of 
slaves, claimed the right of having a will. But how differ- 
ent is this terrestrial god from the old Jehovah of Moses ! 
How he hides his trembling head under the daring blows 
of the Terrorist ! True, he still stands erect, and the 
thunderbolts launched by his trembling hand often fail ; 
but when they strike, they kill. But the Terrorist is im- 
mortal. His limbs may fail him, but, as if by magic, they 
regain their vigor, and he stands erect, ready for battle 
after battle, until he has laid low his enemy and liberated 
the country. And already he sees that enemy falter, be- 
come confused, cling desperately to the wildest means, 
which can only hasten his end. 

It is this absorbing struggle, it is this imposing mission, 



5 o INTR OD UC TION. 

it is this certainty of approaching ^ictory, which gives him 
that cool and calculating enthusiasm, that almost super- 
human energy, which astounds the world. If he is by 
nature a man capable of generous impulses, he will be- 
come a hero : if he is of stronger fibre, it will harden into 
iron ; if of iron, it will become adamant. 

He has a powerful and distinctive individuality. He is 
no longer, like his predecessor, all abnegation. He no 
longer possesses, he no longer strives after, that abstract 
moral beauty which made the propagandist resemble a 
being of another world ; for his look is no longer directed 
inwardly, but is fixed upon the hated enemy. He is the 
type of individual force, intolerant of ever}' yoke. He 
fights not only for the people, to render them the arbiters 
of their own destinies, not only for the whole nation stifling 
in this pestiferous atmosphere, but also for himself; for 
the dear ones whom he loves, whom he adores with all the 
enthusiasm which animates his soul ; for his friends, who 
languish in the horrid cells of the central prisons, and who 
stretch forth to him their skinny hands imploring aid. He 
fights for himself. He has sworn to be free, and he will 
be free, in defiance of everything. He bends his haughty 
head before no idol. He has devoted his sturdy arms to 
the cause of the people. But he no longer deifies them. 
And if the people, ill-counselled, say to him, " Be a slave,'* 
he will exclaim, " No ; " and he will march onward, defying 
their imprecations and their fury, certain that justice will 
be rendered to him in his tomb 

Such is the Terrorist 



I 



REVOLUTIONARY PROFILES. 



REVOLUTIONARY PROFILES. 



I have succinctly related the history of the Revolution- 
ary movement of the last decade, from 1871 to 1881. I 
will now introduce my readers to the inner life of Under- 
ground Russia, and of those terrible men, who have so 
many times made him tremble before whom all tremble. I 
will show them as they are, without exaggeration and with- 
out false modesty. I know well that to draw the portraits 
of Sophia Perovskaia, of Vera Zassulic, of Demetrius Lis- 
ogub, and of so many others, would require a much more 
powerful pen than mine. I say this, not from conventional 
modesty, but from the infinite admiration I feel for them, 
which every one would feel who had known them. The 
reader must therefore supply my shortcomings by filling 
in, with the colors of life, the stiff and formal outlines 
which I shall trace. As for me, I claim no other merit 
than that of being perfectly truthful. I must, therefore, 
warn the lovers of sensational details that they will be 
greatly disappointed ; for, in real life, everything is done 
in a much more simple manner than is believed. 

Of course I propose to make no " revelations." I shall 



54 FOL UTTOXAR V PROFILES. 

only relate what can be related, confining myself to facts 
and to names thoroughly well known and often repeated 
even in the Russian newspapers. 

No political significance need be looked for, cither in 
the selection of my subjects or in the order of their treat- 
ment. Above all, I shall only speak of those whom I have 
known personally — and this will sufficiently indicate that 
mine is a chance selection ; for in a movement so vast, 
and in a country so large as ours, a man can only have a 
limited circle of friends and personal acquaintances. As 
to the order of treatment, I have been guided neither by 
the importance nor by the relative celebrity of the persons 
who have taken part in the movement. I commence, 
therefore, neither with Sophia Perovskaia nor with Vera 
Zassulic, nor with Peter Krapotkine. I have arranged my 
few portraits, as the reader will see for himself, so as to 
bring out more clearly, by the contrast of the figures, the 
general character of the party. It is for this reason that I 
have selected a form for my narrative somewhat frivolous, 
perhaps, considering the subject that I am treating ; I 
mean that of personal recollections, as best adapted to 
preserve certain details of local color which, almost insig- 
nificant in themselves, contribute, taken together, to give an 
idea of the peculiar life of this Revolutionary Russia; — 
my principal, nay, my sole object. 

I say all this, not for the Russian police, which has no 
need of it, being thoroughly acquainted with everything, — 
but for you, good reader ; so that when you are quietly 
rending these pages, your heart may not be troubled by the 
melancholy thought that they might some day lead to the 



RE VOL UTIOXAR Y PRO nr. ES. 5 3 

torture of a human being, in some gloomy dungeon of the 
fortress of St. Peter and St. Paul. With this somewhat 
long introduction, permit me to present to you my first 
specimen, and dear friend, Jacob Stefanovic. 



JACOB STEFANOVIC. 



In the summer of 1877 the district of Cighirino was all 

in commotion. 

The police ran hither and thither as though possessed ; 
the " Stanovie " and the " Ispravnik " had no rest night or 
Jay. The Governor himself paid a visit to the district. 
What was the matter ? The police, through the priests — 
who, violating the secret of the confessional, turned in- 
formers — got scent of the fact that a terrible conspiracy 
had been formed among the peasants, at the head of which 
were the Nihilists, daring people, capable of everything. 
There were no means, however, of penetrating further into 
the secrets of the conspiracy ; for the peasants, learning 
that the priests had betrayed them, resolved no longer to 
go to confession. Meanwhile, there was no time to lose. 
The conspiracy continued to spread, as was shown by clear 
and alarming signs. To avoid betraying themselves when 
in a state of drunkenness, the conspirators absolutely ab- 
stained from the use of brandy, and in the communes 
where they were in the majority, even resolved to shut 
up the kabaki ; that is, the taverns where brandy, the only 
spirit used by the people, is sold. There was thus an in- 



5 7 JACOB STEFANOVIC. 

fallible sign by which to recognize the progress of the 
movement. But how discover and thwart it ? Summary 
searches were made, and hundreds of arrests, but nothing 
was discovered. 

The peasants said not a word ; not even the stick 
made them open their mouths. An armed rising was im- 
minent. It was reported that the conspirators were al- 
ready secretly manufacturing pikes, like the Sansculottes 
of Paris, and purchasing axes and knives. The Ispravnik 
sent a number of vendors of axes and knives to a fair in 
order to see who would buy them. But the conspirators 
guessed his object, and no one went near them. 

The police were in despair, and did not know which 
way to turn. But one night there came to the Ispravnik 
the landlord of one of the kabaki, a certain Konograi, who 
stated that a peasant named Pricodco had come to his 
house, and, being very tired, had drunk a glass of brandy, 
which immediately intoxicated him, as he had eaten 
nothing all the morning. In this drunken state he had 
cried out that in a short time everything would be over- 
thrown, that he had already been " sworn," and had seen a 
" paper." It was evident that he belonged to the con- 
spiracy, and Konograi thereupon conceived the idea of 
joining the conspiracy himself through Pricodco. But the 
oath was required, and he came to ask if the Ispravnik 
would authorize him to take it. The latter could not con- 
tain himself, he was so overjoyed. 

He authorized the man to take as many oaths as he liked, 
encouraged him, and promised him money and land. In 
a word, Konograi took the oath, and Prioodco showed him 



5 S RE VOL V T10XA R Y PR OFTL ES. 

the papers, which were nothing less than the plan of the 

conspiracy. 

After reading it, Konograi turned to the other and 
said to him point blank : " Listen. You know the names 
and everything. Now choose. Either we go together to 
the tspravnik with these same papers, and you will be 
pardoned and have as much money as you like, or it will 
be all over with you, for these papers are light, and I can 
carry them by myself." 

In this dilemma the poor wretch, instead of killing him, 
turned traitor. 

He himself did not know all, but having given the clue, 
it was not difficult to follow it up. In a short time the 
police had in their hands all the threads of the conspiracy, 
and the names of the conspirators. 

It was a most threatening matter. The number of the 
affiliated was about three thousand : they extended through 
several provinces ; and they were organized in a military 
manner ; the signal of insurrection, and of civil war, was 
about to be given, at a popular festival. 

All this marvellous edifice was constructed in about 
eight months, and was the work of one man alone. That 
man was Jacob Stefanovic. He conceived a plan of un- 
paralleled audacity. It was based not only upon the aspi- 
rations, but also upon the prejudices, of the people whom 
he knew thoroughly, having spent all his early days among 
them. It was only partial 1 / approved by the party, and 
was not afterwards followed. 

The scheme failed. The Government, having in its 
hands all the documents, arrested more than a thousand 



JACOB STEFAXOVIC. 50, 

per:^ -s, including all the leaders. The others escaped. 
Some time afterwards Stefanovic was also arrested by a 
strategem, as he was going to a meeting, with the remain- 
ing members of the conspiracy, and with him his friend 
Leo Delia The printer of the papers and of the procla- 
mations, John Bokhanovsky, was arrested some days be- 
fore. 

They were imprisoned at KiefF, and how secure that 
prison is I need scarcely say. Their trial was to take 
place in the summer of 1S7S. 



II. 

I spent that summer in St. Petersburg. I was very 
often at the house of Madam X., an able painter, and one 
of the most fervid adherents of our party. I had no duties 
to perform there, for Madam X., although she rendered 
important services to the common cause, worked in a 
branch of it to which I did not belong. Cut it was impos- 
sible to resist the fascination of her artistically elegant 
presence, and her spirited conversation full of imagination. 
And I was not the only one of the " illegal " * men to com- 
mit this little offence. 

Thus, I used to go there. One day, having gone some- 
what early, I did not find the lady, and remained waiting 

* Once for all \ must explain that this generic term is applied in 
Russia to everything that exists in despite of the law. Thus we have 
the illegal, that is. t' e secret press, and the illegal mtn, those who, 
having compromised themselves more or less seriously, can no longer 
live under their true names, as they would be immediately arrested ; 
and. therefore, changing their names, thev live with a passport 
sillier false or leul by some friend vvko still preserves his legality." 



6o RE VOL UTIONAR Y PROFILES. 

for her. Shortly afterwards Madam R., who was a great 
friend of the " fanatics " of Kieff and also a friend of mine* 
came in. We chatted. Half an hour passed thus. Sud- 
den y there came a violent ringing at the bell of the ante- 
chamber. It could not be the mistress of the house, for I 
knew her mode of ringing the bell, neither could it be one 
of our members, for " ours " do not ring in that manner. It 
must be some " authorized " person. It was a telegraph 
messenger. The telegram was addressed to Madam X., 
but Madam R. opened it, which did not in the least sur- 
prise me, knowing their friendship. 

But after having glanced at it she started up, clapped 
her hands, and indulged in manifestations of the most un 
bridled delight. 

I was utterly amazed, for I knew that she was not of 
an excitable disposition. 

" What is the matter ? " I asked. 

" Look ! Look ! " she exclaimed, giving me the tele- 
gram. 

I read it ; the address, and then four words only, " Re- 
joice, boy just born," the signature and nothing else. 

" Are you so fond of boys," I asked, " or of the mother 
who has given birth to one ? " 

" Mother ! boys ! " exclaimed Madam R. waving her 
hand. " They have escaped from prison." 

" Who ? who ? Where ? How ? " 

"Stefanovic, Deuc, and Bokhanovsky! From Kieff." 

" All three ? " 

" Every one of them." 

I, too, then started up. 



JACOB STEPAN0V1C. 6 1 

A few clays afterwards a letter came announcing the 
approaching arrival of Stefanovic and Deuc in St. Peters- 
burg. I was very anxious to make the acquaintance of 
these worthy friends of ours, especially of Stefanovic, with 
whom some years before I had had business relations. * 

I begged the friend who was to meet him at the rail- 
way station to bring him to my house, if possible, on the 
night of his arrival. I was living with the passport of a 
high personage. I had an unoccupied room, and I was in 
the odor of sanctity with the dvornik and the landlady of 
the house. There was not the slightest clanger. 

On the day fixed I awaited him. The train arrived at 
ten o'clock. I knew that he would first have to go some- 
where else to change his clothes, and purify Ziimse/f, that is, 
throw the spies off his track in case they should have fol- 
lowed him from the station. He would, therefore, be un- 
able to arrive before midnight. But even at eleven o'clock, 
I could not contain my impatience, and looked at the clock 
every minute. The time passed very slowly. The house 
where I lived was so situated that they could only reach 
it by one long road, a very long road. I went out to see 
if they were coming. 

It was one of those wondrous bright nights which are 
among the greatest beauties of St. Peterburg, when the 
dawn and the sunset seem to embrace each other in the 
pallid starless sky, from which streams forth a rosy, soft, 
subtle and fantastic glow, and the light golden clouds float 
in an atmosphere of enchanting transparency. How I 

* With us everything relating to the Revolution is called " busi- 
ness." Of course, we do not mean commercial or such-like business. 



62 KE VOL UTIOA'AR Y PROFILES, 

used to love those nights in times gone by, when alone in 
a little duscchubka and with a single oar, I glided in the 
middle of the immense Neva, suspended between the arch 
of heaven and that other arch reflected in the black waters, 
which seemed of fathomless depth ; and how I began to 
hate them afterwards, those accursed and dangerous 
nights ! 

It was impossible to remain out ; I might be observed 
by a wandering spy or a policeman on duty and have them 
at my heels, which was not a pleasant thought on such a 
night. I returned more impatient than ever. But when 
midnight struck and no one came, my impatience changed 
into an actual anguish, unknown to other men, but which 
is the most agonizing torture, and, so to speak, the daily 
torture of a Russian Revolutionist, who, parting with his 
friends or his wife for half an hour, is not sure that he will 
ever see them again. I was a prey to the gloomiest sus- 
picions, when, ten minutes after midnight, I heard the 
street door open. Then came steps upon my stairs; I 
opened the door. They were there. I immediately recog- 
nized Stefanovie, for, while he was in prison, the police 
took his photograph, as they do with all political prisoners. 
After his escape these photographs were distributed to the 
agents who had to search for him, and some of them 
naturally fell into our hands. 

I welcomed him without saying a word, and long pressed 
him in my arms. Then I warmly thanked my friend, and led 
Stefanovie into my room, regarding him with a look of af- 
fection. I could scarcely believe my eyes when I saw be- 
fore me, restored to the light of day, and to our cause, this 



• JACOB STEFAXOVIC. 63 

man who had already had the hangman's rope around his 
neck, and whom we all mourned as dead. 

By a tacit agreement we at once began to treat each 
other as old friends. We recalled our former intercourse. 
He told me that he did not expect to find me in St. Peters- 
burs:, for he had heard it rumored in the countrv that I 
was still at Geneva. Being already acquainted with the 
details of his escape, I asked him in what manner he had 
travelled, as the stations were full of spies in search of 
him. 

He smiled and at once told me. I looked at him, this 
terrible man, who, defying everything, alone, without any 
other aid than his indomitable energy, had succeeded in 
rendering himself the absolute arbiter of so many thou- 
sands of those obstinate peasants, and who was on the 
point of becoming the leader of a terrible insurrection. 
He was of middle height, and somewhat slender, hollow 
chested, and with narrow shoulders. Physically, he must 
have been very weak. I never saw an uglier man. He 
had the face of a negro, or rather of a Tartar, prominent 
cheek-bones, a large mouth, and a Hat nose. Bat it was 
an attractive ugliness. Intelligence shone forth in his gray 
eyes. His smile had something of the malign and of the 
subtly sportive, like the character of the Ukrainian race 
to which he belongs. When he mentioned some clever 
trick played off upon the police he laughed most heartily, 
and showed his teeth, which were very fine, and white as 
ivory. His entire countenance, with his wrinkled forehead, 
and his cold, firm look, expressed a resolution and, at the 
same time, a self-command which nothing could disturb. 



6 4 VOL U TIONAR V PR O FILMS. 

I observed that, in speaking, he did not use the slightest 
gesture. 

We spoke of the common friends whom he had visited 
on the way, of the projects about which he had come to St. 
Petersburg, and of many other things, 

Che il tacer e bello, si com' era il parlar cola dov' era. 

I could not but appreciate the soundness of his judg- 
ment, upon many questions, which he always looked at 
from a very orginal and very practical side, but especially 
his knowledge of men, whom he could estimate after a few 
days' acquaintance, though I observed that he always 
showed a somewhat pessimist tendency. ' 

The day was far advanced when we finished our "con- 
versation in order to take a little rest. 

III. 

Stefanovic remained for a whole month in St. Peters- 
burg. We saw each other very often. I afterwards had 
many opportunities of seeing him and of becoming ac- 
quainted with him, which is the same as saying, of loving 
him. He is a man of a very original and very complex 
disposition. He has great force of mind and character; 
one of those who under favorable circumstances, become 
prophetical. He has the extremely rare faculty of under- 
standing how to direct the masses, as he showed at 
Cighirino. But his force is not that which goes straight 
to its object, as a ball from a cannon, smashing and over- 
throwing everything that opposes it. No, it is a force 
that delights in concealment, that bends, but only to stand 



THE TERRORISM. 65 

has no other object than to overthrow this abhorred des 
potism, and to give to his country, what all civilized 
nations possess, political liberty, to enable it to advance 
with a firm step towards its own redemption. The force 
of mind, the indomitable energy, and the spirit of sacrifice 
which his predecessor attained in the beauty of his dreams, 
he attains in the grandeur of his mission, in the strong 
passions which this marvellous, intoxicating, vertiginous 
struggle arouses in his heart. 

What a spectacle ! When had such a spectacle been 
seen before ? Alone, obscure, poor, he undertook to be 
the defender of outraged humanity, of right trampled 
under foot, and he challenged to the death the most pow- 
erful Empire in the world, and for years and years con- 
fronted all its immense forces. 

Proud as Satan rebelling against God, he opposed his 
own will to that of the man who alone, amid a nation of 
slaves, claimed the right of having a will. But how differ- 
ent is this terrestrial god from the old Jehovah of Moses ! 
How he hides his trembling head under the daring blows 
of the Terrorist ! True, he still stands erect, and the 
thunderbolts launched by his trembling hand often fail ; 
but when they strike, they kill. But the Terrorist is im- 
mortal. His limbs may fail him, but, as if by magic, they 
regain their vigor, and he stands erect, ready for battle 
after battle, until he has laid low his enemy and liberated 
the country. And already he sees that enemy falter, be- 
come confused, cling desperately to the wildest means, 
which can only hasten his end. 

It is this absorbing struggle, it is this imposing mission, 



66 RE I 'OL UTIONAR Y PROFILES. 

and often speaks of him, relating with especial pleasure 
anecdotes of him, and quoting passages from his letters, 
which show his rude intelligence and his honest and upright 
heart 



DEMETRIUS CLEMENS. 



I. 

He is no longer so very young ; he is one of the oldest 
ciaikorzi, and is now about thirty-six, or thirty-seven years 
of age. He was arrested in March, 1879, an( ^ * s now m 
Siberia. 

There is nothing of the conspirator in his bearing. 
He is a straightforward man, an excellent companion, an 
unrivalled talker ; his language is fluent, full of imagina- 
tion and piquancy, adorned with all the treasures of the 
rich popular Russian tongue, which he speaks as Giusti 
wrote the Tuscan. 

He is perhaps the best of our popular propagandists. 
He has a manner peculiar to himslf, absolutely inimitable. 
It is not that of Katerina Bresckovskaia, passionate and 
prophetic, nor is it Socratic and searching like that of 
Michael Kuprianoff, a young man of genius who died in 
prison at the age of nineteen. Demetrius Clemens carries 
on his propagandism in a facetious spirit. He laughs, and 
makes the old peasants, generally imperturbable, split their 
sides with laughter as they listen to him. He so contrives, 
however, that with all this laughter some serious thought 
is hammered into their heads and remains there. He was 
one of the most successful in obtaining adherents to So- 



68 K£ l 'OL UTIOXAR Y PROFILES. 

cialism among the people, and the workmen of the 
towns. 

His addresses in some village kabak, or humble tavern, 
were genuine masterpieces. I remember that, when I 
went with him upon some propagandist journey, I very 
often had no heart to introduce myself, and interrupt his 
inexhaustible flow of brilliant improvisation, and, in spite 
of myself, instead of being a propagandist, became a mere 
listener and admirer of a work of art. His face is not at 
all handsome, somewhat ugly, but is one of those which 
once seen cannot be forgotten, so peculiar is it. The up- 
per part, with that broad forehead of the thinker, and those 
chestnut-colored eyes, soft, vivacious, piercing, from 
which the light of a restrained acuteness shines forth, show 
him to be a European and a man of cultivated and ele- 
vated mind. From the eyes downwards, however, he might 
be taken for a Kalmuck, a Kirghis, a Baskir, it may be, 
but not for a representative of the Caucasian. Not that 
there is anything in it of the savage or deformed: nay^ 
his mouth with his thin and carved-like lips is very fine, 
and his smile has something very sweet and attractive 
What strikes one, however, at first sight, and gives such a 
strange character to his entire countenance, is a nose that 
cannot be subjected to any definition; broad, somewhat 
turned up, and so flat that, in profile, it is almost imper- 
ceptible — a veritable freak of nature. 

If we wanted to find two men to personify by their 
characters, a complete antithesis in everything, we should 
find them in Jacob Stefanovic and Demetrius Clemens. 

The one is the type of a powerful organizer; the other 



DEMETRIUS CLEMENS. 69 

never organized any circle or secret society, and never 
tried to do so, in all his life. The one with his look, 
always fixed upon some great object, full of that cold fan- 
aticism which stops before no human consideration, would 
have held out his hand to the devil himself, if the devil 
could have been of any use to him in the execution of his 
vast designs. The other, tranquil and serene in his devo- 
tion to the cause of Socialism, recognized no compromise, 
and was never led away by any considerations whatever of 
immediate utility. 

The former, gifted with an immense energy, and an im- 
movable will, bent men and masses to an object selected 
and determined by himself alone. The other never bent 
any one. He was absolutely incapable of it, and he even 
disliked those who seemed disposed to sacrifice their own 
will to his. 

Notwithstanding this, there was no man who had such 
unlimited influence over all around him, both individuals 
and Circles, as Demetrius Clemens. 

A word of his terminated the bitterest discussion, set- 
tled differences which seemed irreconcilable. This un- 
studied influence which arose, so to speak, spontaneously, 
wherever he entered, especially showed itself in his personal 
intercourse. I have never known, or even heard of, a man 
who could arouse in so many persons a feeling, so profound 
of friendship, or rather adoration, as Demetrius Clemens. 
I have seen several letters written to him by various per- 
sons. If I had not known from whom they came, and to 
whom they were addressed, I should have taken them for 
love letters. 



7 o RE VOL UTIONAR Y PROFILES. 

This feeling was not that transient enthusiasm, certain 
brilliant types are able to inspire, which glows with splen- 
dor for a moment, like fireworks, leaving behind it the 
darkness more profound. Demetrius Clemens is never 
forgotten. A heart once conquered by him, is his forever. 
Neither time, nor distance, can destroy, or even weaken, 
the feeling experienced for him. 

What is there, then, about this extraordinary man which 
enables him thus to fascinate every heart ? 

He has a heart as boundless as the ocean. 

Not that he forms friendships very readily. No ; like 
all men of deep feelings he is very slow to open his heart. 
Nay, all unconscious of his own qualities, he considers him- 
self harsh and cold, and thus the feelings of devotion which 
he unwittingly arouses, oppress him, trouble him. Per 
haps he believes himself incapable of responding to them. 
They appear to him like stolen objects to which he has no 
right. 

No reproach of this kind, however would ever be uttered 
by any of his many friends, for his moral gifts are such } 
that even the smallest which he bestows are treasures. 

The affection felt for him counts for nothing in the love 
which he feels for every one. He is truly incorruptible. 
But there is no gift of mind or heart, among his friends, 
which he fails to discover, and exaggerate in his generosity. 
He never regards a person for the use he may be to the 
party. Among so many conspirators he remains a man. 
When he accosts any one he does not do so with any hid- 
den object, as all organizers and conspirators are compelled 
to do ; for they have of necessity to turn all men to account 



DEMETRIUS CLEMENS. yi 

as instruments of their designs. Every one, therefore, feels 
at ease and confident with him. All are ready to give up 
their whole hearts to him, and blindly follow his every word, 
being certain that he will attentively watch over, and be 
the first to warn them if they run the slightest risk. 

And should he wish to send any one on any dangerous 
work, it would be undertaken without a single moment's 
hesitation. If but Demetrius Clemens says so there is no 
room for doubting that life must be risked ; otherwise he 
would not have advised it. 

Demetrius Clemens has, however, never acted thus. 
He himself has gene forth into danger, very willingly, but 
not one man has he ever sent into danger in all his life 
Even those little risks which an "illegal" man is com- 
pelled to avoid as they often might cost him his life, while 
a legal man is only in danger of some few days' arrest — 
even these he has always taken upon himself, never allow- 
ing any one to place himself in jeopardy for him. Neither 
the remonstrances, nor the most bitter reproaches of his 
best friends, have ever availed to shake this determination, 
or induce him not to risk his life so lightly — a life too preci- 
ous to the cause. This was precisely what Clemens would 
on no account recognize. He is modesty itself, although 
he has nothing of that degrading Christian humiliation be- 
queathed to us by ages of slavery and hypocrisy which 
often conceals the most unbridled arrogance. He, on the 
contrary, is independent, proud of his dignity as a man, in- 
capable of bending his head before any one. 

Modesty seems in him the most natural thing in the 
world. He does not recognize in himself any of those marvel- 



7 2 VOL UTIONARY PROFILES. 

'lous gifts which have made him one of the most popular and 
most esteemed men of all the party ; a party certainly not 
wanting in firm minds, upright characters, or generous 
hearts. 

Owing to an optical illusion, rkot yet explained by scien- 
tific men, he sees all these qualities, not in himself but in 
his friends. 

II. 

Demetrius .Clemens was born upon the banks of the 
Volga, where his father was a land steward, and passed 
all his youth in the midst of the rough population of the 
nomadic herdsmen of the immense Steppes, so well de- 
scribed in one of his poems, which I hope he will finish 
some day. 

From this adventurous life, face to face with nature, 
wild and imposing, his character derived that poetical sen- 
timent, and that love of clanger, which he has preserved all 
his life. 

His courage, however, is as original as his manner of 
carrying on his propagandism, He laughs at danger, not 
like a warrior who finds in it a stimulant, but like an artist 
who, so to speak, enjoys it placidly, especially its humorous 
side. 

' His heart seems really incapable by nature of faltering. 
Amid the greatest danger Clemens is not the least excited. 
He keeps quite cool and laughs and jokes as though noth- 
ing were the matter. Hence aris eshis really extraordinary 
presence of mind. He extricates himself from the greatest 



DEMETRIUS CLEMENS. 73 

perplexities with a marvellous dexterity, often with a vis 
comica, which shows that he thought nothing whatever of 
the danger, but delighted rather in certain positions which 
lend themselves to the humorous. He is capable of grave 
imprudence, not from braggadocio, for he has not the 
least trace of it; but from mere love of waggery. 

Thus, at the commencement of his revolutionary career 
being already "wanted" by the police, although he had not 
yet taken a false passport, he went in person to the Procur- 
ator, to beg him to set at liberty, provisionally, a political 
prisoner, Anatol Serdinkoff, offering his own bail. For- 
tunately the Procurator, who was new in office, knew noth- 
ing about him, and Clemens played his part so well, that 
the official granted his request. But for a change in the 
arrangement of the trial of Serdinkoff, a political prisoner 
would actually have been released on the bail of a man who 
was himself a fugitive from justice. 

At other times his enterprises assumed the most hu- 
morous character, and he bestowed upon them a profusion 
cf detail, and a diligence of elaboration, like a true dilet- 
tante. To relate one among so many, I will cite his juvenile 
escapade of ten years ago; the liberation of a certain Tel- 
sieff, compromised, but not gravely, in the trial of Neciaeff, 
and exiled by administrative order to Petrosavodsk, one of 
the towns of Northern Russia. Clemens went there with 
false papers, as an engineer employed to make certain 
geological researches in Finland. He presented himself 
to all the authorities under the pretext of asking for the 
necessary information, and succeeded in fascinating all of 
them. For a whole week he remained at Petrosavodsk, 



74 RE VOL UTIONAR Y PROFILES. 

and was the town talk, people rivalling each other in enter- 
taining him. Having quietly organized the escape of 
Telsieff, he departed in company with the latter, so as not 
to subject him to the risks of travelling alone. Notwith- 
standing this, Clemens played his part so well that no one 
at Petrosavodsk in the least suspected that he had any- 
thing to do with the matter. A year afterwards, in ..f aci 
one of his friends was passing through the same town, and 
the Ispravnik asked him whether he knew a certain en- 
gineer named Sturm, and after having told the most mar- 
vellous stories respecting his stay at Petrosavodsk, added : 

" A very worthy man. He promised to pay us a visit 
when he returned from Finland, but we have not seen him 
since. More's the pity. Perhaps he returned by sea." 

What would he have said, had he known who that 
engineer named Sturm was ? 

It is not, however, gifts of mind, nor those of heart, 
which form the most striking part of his individuality, so 
fertile and diversified. The most striking part is intellect. 
Clemens has one of the most powerful intellects to be 
found among our party. Notwithstanding the active part 
he has taken in the movement from its commencement, 
and all the tribulations of an " illegal " man, he has always 
kept up to the level of European intellectual progress, and, 
although naturally inclined towards economic science, has 
never confined himself to that branch alone. 

Eager for knowledge, he wished to know everything, 
without heeding whether he could derive from it any im- 
mediate advantage. 

I remember how delighted he was with Helmholtz's 



DEMETRIUS CLEMENS. 75 

lectures on physics, which he attended in the year 1875, 
while he was staying in Berlin. I had some trouble to 
make him discontinue sending abstracts of them to me in 
the letters which he wrote to me at St. Petersburg. 

His views were as wide as his eagerness for knowledge 
was ardent. 

He is not a party man. A Socialist of profound con- 
victions, as a man so versed in economic and social science 
could not fail to be, he brought to the service of our cause 
both his vast learning and his clear and perspicacious in- 
telligence. But he was not made for the narrow limits of 
the secret society. For him the society to which he be- 
longed could not become country, family, everything. He 
always lived somewhat apart. He had no trace of that 
party ambition which is one of the most powerful motives 
of the conspirator. He loved the whole world, and neg- 
lected no occasion of taking part in its life. Thus he wrote 
not only for the secret press, but even more for the " legal" 
press, in various St. Peterburg reviews, under different 
pseudonyms, and did so, not only because he wished to be 
more independent, and to live only by the fruits of his 
own labor, but because he wanted a larger audience, and 
wider subjects than the secret press could furnish him 
with. 

He has never sided with those groups which have so 
often divided the revolutionary party into hostile camps. 
Full of faith in Socialist principles, in general, he was 
very sceptical with regard to the different means which 
at various times the Revolut ionists looked upon as univer- 
sal panaceas. This scepticism evidently paralyzed his 



76 RE VOL UTIOXAR V PROFILES. 

strength in an underground struggle, in which, owing to 
the narrow limits of the ground, only very exceptional 
means and methods can be adopted. 

As a conspirator, therefore, he was never of great im- 
portance. With his irresistible personal fascination, he 
could attract to the Socialist party a large number of ad- 
herents from all classes, especially from among the young. 
But once having entered the party, he was absolutely in- 
capable of guiding them to any fixed object; others had 
to do that. 

Not that he was wanting in that force of character 
which makes a man arbiter of the will of others. On the 
contrary ; of this power he gives the most important proof 
in his magnetic personal fascination. Nor was he wanting, 
even, in the power of making his own ideas prevail, when 
necessary. Without the slightest tinge of ambition, or 
vanity, he possesses in the highest degree the rare courage 
of going against the opinions, and the feelings of everybody, 
when they appear to him unreasonable. I remember well 
how often he stood alone in opposing the opinion of the 
entire party. 

But he has neither that authoritative spirit, nor that 
severity of mind, which spring from a passionate faith, and 
are necessary in leading a group of men to an undertaking, 
often desperate. 

In the revolutionary movement, therefore, he did not 
do the hundredth part of what, by his naiural gifts, he 
should have been capable of doing. 

With his vast intellect and his noble character, he 
might have been one of those who lead, a nation to a better 



DEMETRIUS CLEMENS, 77 

future, but he is incapable of leading a band of young men 
to death. 

He is a splendid example of the thinker, with all his 
merits, and all his defects. 



VALERIAN OSSINSKY. 

r. 

I had but few opportunities of seeing him, for swift as 
the wind of the desert, he traversed all Russia, especially 
the southern part, in which were the principal Circles he 
was connected with, while I always remained in St. Peters- 
burg. It was in that city I saw him when he came for only 
three or four days, to disappear afterwards like a lightning 
flash, and this time for ever. 

It was an ugly time. General MesentzefT had been 
killed in broad daylight, in one of the principal streets 
in the capital, and those by whom he was killed had dis- 
appeared without leaving any trace behind them. This 
being the first act of the kind, it produced an immense im- 
pression. The first moment of bewilderment over, the 
police scoured the whole city. Innumerable searches were 
made, and summary arrests took place in the streets on the 
slightest suspicion. The report ran, though perhaps it was 
an exaggeration, that during the first two days the number 
of arrests reached a thousand. 

It was extremely dangerous for us illegal men to show 
ourselves out of doors. I was compelled, therefore, to 
subject myself to one of the greatest annoyances which 
can befall us in our troubled life, that of " quarantine." 



VALERIAN OSSINSKY. 79 

I went to the house of one of oui most faithful friends, 
who occupied a post which placed him beyond all suspicion 
on the part of the police ; and there I had to remain con- 
cealed without ever going out, even at night. It wearied 
me to death. I wrote a little work ; and, when I could 
write no longer, I read French novels to kill time. From 
time to time some friends came, out of compassion, to see 
me. One day Olga N. came and told me that Valerian 
Ossinsky was in St. Petersburg. I did not know him per- 
sonally, but had frequently heard of him. It was very natu- 
ral that I should wish to see him, especially as it would be 
an excellent pretext for escaping for a day, at all events, 
from my insupportable imprisonment. 

I went out at dusk. The streets were almost deserted, for 
my friend's house was in the outskirts of the capital. 

As the greatest precautions had, however, to be taken 
both in leaving and returning, I went in an opposite direc- 
tion to that which I ought to have taken. After many 
turnings I entered a bustling street. I saw mounted Cos- 
sacks, lance in hand, and at every step began to run against 
spies, walking or standing about. It was the easiest thing 
in the world to recognize them. That embarrassed air, 
that glance full of suspicion and fear which they fixed upon 
the face of every passer-by, are signs which do not de- 
ceive an experienced eye. These, however, were profes- 
sional spies. The others, that is, the " temporary" spies, 
had a much more comical appearance. They were evi- 
dently only private soldiers dressed up as civilians, as could 
be seen at a glance. They always went about in little par- 
ties, and, like men accustomed for so many years to mili- 



80 RE VOL UTIOXA R V rROFTL ES. 

tary service, could not in any way adapt themselves to ir- 
regular movements. They always, therefore, kept in file. 
They were dressed in the most grotesque manner. As in 
the hurry different clothes could not be obtained for each, 
whole detachments had the same hats, the same overcoats, 
the same trousers. Some wore great blue spectacles, as 
large as cart-wheels, to give themselves the appearance of 
students. It was such a comical sight that it was difficult 
to keep from laughing. 

After passing in review several of these detachments, 
I proceeded towards the headquarters of our Circle. In 
passing through a neighboring lane, I raised my head to 
see if a little parasol still remained in a well-known window. 
It was the signal that all was quiet, for at the first alarm it 
would disappear. There it was. But as I knew that the 
police, having heard of the employment of signals, not un- 
frequently examined thoroughly all the windows, and, after 
making an arrest, replaced everything which had been 
there before, I was not satisfied with this inspection, and 
kept on. After having turned several times to the right, 
and to the left, I entered a place where I was certain to 
find safe information, which no police in the world could 
get wind of, or use as a trap, even if apprised of it. 

This place was a public latrine (if I may be allowed 
to say so). There, in a place agreed upon, I was sure to 
find an imperceptible signal, which was changed every 
morning ; and in time of great danger, twice a day. There 
was the sign, and it said, clearly enough, " quite quiet." 
All doubt was at an end. 

However, as the M Information Agency," as we jestingly 



VA L ERlA N OSS INS A" Y. 8 1 

called this place, was more than a mile distant from our 
headquarters, and as in going there I might attract the 
attention of some spy, I wished on the way to assure my- 
self that I was not followed. I have never had the habit 
of looking back ; it is the most dangerous thing that can be- 
imagined, and every one in a similar position should be ex- 
pressly warned against it, for it is the most certain means 
of bringing spies about you. The best way to avoid 
being followed by them, is to pay no attention to them, 
and not to think about them at all. My case being, how- 
ever exceptional on meeting a handsome woman, I looked 
her full in the face, and when she had passed I turned 
round as though to look at her again. 
There was nobody. 

I was just on the threshold of our retreat, and quickly 
ascended the stairs. I rang in a peculiar manner, and was 
at once admitted. 

The room was full of people. Upon the rough wooden 
table were some bottles of beer, a dish of bacon, and an- 
other of salt fish. I had arrived, thus, at a lucky moment. 
It was one of our little " banquets," which from time to time 
the Nihilists indulge in; as a relief, perhaps, from the tension 
of mind in which they are always compelled to live. It 
was the arrival of Ossinsky which was being celebrated 
on this occasion. He, however, was not there. 

All being in the best of spirits, I was welcomed most 
amicably, notwithstanding that I had broken bounds, and 
I joined the marry party. I was very fond of these " ban- 
quets," for it is difficult to imagine anything more lively. 
All these men were " illegal people," more or less seriously 



82 RE VOL UTIONAR Y PR O FILES. 

compromised. All carried daggers in their belts, and loaded 
revolvers, and were ready in case of a surprise, to defend 
themselves to the last drop of their blood. But 
always accustomed to live beneath the sword of Damocles, 
they at last gave not the slightest heed to it. It was, per- 
haps, this very danger which rendered the merriment more 
unrestrained. Laughter and smart remarks were heard all 
over the room. And in the corners, couples could be seen 
talking apart in a low voice ; they were friends, new and 
old, pouring out their hearts to each other — another 
peculiarity of these banquets. Now and then the traditional 
sign of the German " Bruderschaft" were to be seen. This 
need of giving unrestrained expression to feeling, so natural 
among people allied more by community of effort, ideas, 
and danger, than by ties of blood, communicated to these 
rare gatherings something poetical and tender, which 
rendered them beyond measure attractive. 

II. 

I asked for news of Ossinsky. They told me that he 
had gone to a friend's, but that he would come without fail 
shortly. 

In about half an hour, in fact, he entered the room, 
holding in his hand, encased in an elegant black glove, his 
hat with the regulation cockade, which he wore expressly 
as a kind of passport. 

I advanced towards him. I shook him by the hand, and 
held it for a time in my own, being unable to take my eyes 
off him. 



VALERIAN OSSINSKY. 

He was as beautiful as the sun. Lithe, well-propor- 
tioned, strong and flexible as a blade of steel. His head, 
with its flaxen hair somewhat thrown back, was gracefully 
poised upon his delicate and sinewy neck. His high and 
fair forehead was furrowed, upon his somewhat narrow 
temple, by some blue veins. A straight nose, which in 
profile seemed as though it had been carved by an artistic 
chisel, gave to his countenance that character of classic 
beauty which is so rare in Russia. Small whiskers, and an 
elegant flaxen beard, concealed a very delicate, expressive, 
eager mouth, and all this Apollo-like face was lighted up by 
two very fine blue eyes, large, intelligent, full of fire, and 
of youthful daring. 

He had come from Kieff, his favorite city, but had 
passed through all the principal towns of Southern Russia ; 
from which, having visited all the revolutionary Circles, he 
brought us the latest information of what was doing, and 
being projected. 

He was delighted, beyond all expression, by the im- 
mense development which the Terrorism had taken in so 
short a time, and exaggerating it, with his fervid imagina- 
tion, anticipated from it incalculable results. I did not 
share all his over-sanguine hopes. When he spoke, how- 
ever, it w r as impossible to resist the fascination of his fiery 
eloquence. 

He was not a good speaker in the ordinary sense of the 
term, but there was in his words that force which springs 
from profound faith, that contagious enthusiasm which 
involuntarily communicates itself to the listener. The tone 
of his voice, the expression of his face, persuaded not less 



84 RE VOL UTIOXARY PROFILES. 

than his words. He possessed the great gift of knowing 
how to make his hearers not opponents, bat allies who en- 
deavored on their side to convince themselves, in order to 
be able to assent to his assertion. 

In listening to him I felt how true must be certain 
rumors attaching to his name. 

On the following day Ossinsky came to see me. Three 
or four days afterwards I again left my den, in order to 
proceed to our retreat, but I found there only a farewell 
note from Ossinsky, who had left the previous evening for 
Odessa. 

I never saw him again. 

In the spring of 1S79 he was arrested at Kieff. His 
trial took place on May 5, 1879. He was condemned to 
death. The prosecution was unable to bring foward any- 
thing of importance against him. The one act for which 
he was convicted, was merely that of having felt for his 
revolver, without drawing it from his pocket. But the 
Government knew that it had in its clutches one of the 
most influential members of the Terrorist party, and this 
sufficed to determine it to dictate the sentence to the 
judges. 

He received the announcement of the sentence with 
head erect, like the true warrior he was. 

During the ten days which elapsed between the verdict 
and the sentence, he remained quite calm and cheerful. 
He encouraged his friends, and never had a single mo- 
ment of dejection. When his mother and his sister came 
to visit him, although he knew that the sentence had al- 
ready been confirmed, by the Government, ho told them 



VALERIAN OSSIXSKY. 85 

that his punishment had been commuted ; but in an under- 
tone he apprised his sister, a young girl of sixteen, that he 
should probably die on the morrow, and begged her to 
prepare their mother for the sad intelligence. On the 
day of his execution he wrote a long letter to his friends, 
which may be called his political testament. He says very 
little in it of himself or of his sentiments. Completely ab- 
sorbed in the work of the party, he directed his thoughts 
towards the means to be adopted, and the errors to be 
avoided. It is a monument erected by himself upon his 
own tomb, which will never be forgotten. 

On the morning of May 14, he was taken to the 
scaffold, with two of his companions, Antonoff, and Erant- 
ner. By a refinement of cruelty, his eyes were not ban- 
daged, and he was compelled to look upon the agonizing 
writhings of his companions, which in a short time, he was 
himself to undergo. At this horrible sight his physical na- 
ture, over which the will of man has no control, gave way, 
and the head of Valerian became, in five minutes, as white 
as that of an old man. But his spirit remained unsubdued. 
The vile gendarmes accosted him at this point, and sug- 
gested that he should petition for pardon. He repelled 
them indignantly, and, refusing the hand of the executioner, 
ascended the steps of the scaffold alone and with a firm 
step. A priest came to offer him the Cross. With an en- 
ergetic shake of the head, he indicated that he would not 
recognize the ruler of heaven any more than the ruler of 
earth. 

The gendarmes ordered the military band of the troops 



g 6 RE VOL UTIONAR Y PROFILES. 

which surrounded the scaffold, to play the komarinskaia, a. 
lively and indecent song. 

A few minutes later, Valerian Ossinsky had ceased to 
exist. 

TIL 

He was a man richly endowed with everything which 
gives us the power to command events. He was not an 
organizer. He was too sanguine to be able to provide for 
small matters, as well as great. All the force of his mind 
was concentrated upon one sole object, indicated to him by 
his almost infallible revolutionary instinct. He was always 
in the vanguard advocating plans, which sometimes were 
accomplished years afterwards. Thus in the year 1878, 
when the Terrorism was still in its infancy, he was already 
a partisan of Czaricide, and of the introduction into the 
revolutionary programme, of a distinct and outspoken de- 
mand for political changes. 

He was a man of action. While the Propagandist 
movement lasted he held aloof. It was only in the winter 
of the year 1877, when words gave place to deeds, that he 
joined the movement, and brought to it the aid of his fiery 
energy. 

He possessed in the highest degree one of the great- 
est of human forces, the faith which removes mountains. 

This faith he infused into all who approached him. 
Henaturally became, thus, the soul of every undertak- 
ing in which he took part. With his extraordinary energy 
there was scarcely any revolutionary movement in the 



VALERIAN OSSINSKY. 87 

South of Russia in which he did not take part, as his friend 
Stefanovic declares, who also belongs to the South. No one 
could be dejected when Valerian Ossinsky was by his side ; 
for he animated every one with his enthusiastic and stead- 
fast faith and example. He was always the first to throw 
himself into the thickest of the fight, and undertook the 
most dangerous part in every enterprise. He was coura- 
geous to rashness. 

When a mere lad of eleven, hearing that a neighbor's 
house was surrounded by the band of a famous brigand, 
and there being none of his elders at home, he went with 
his father's gun upon his shoulder to render assistance. 
Fortunately the report was untrue and he returned unin- 
jured. This little incident gives an idea of the courage of 
the future Terrorist. To give an idea of his chivalrous 
heart, it need only be said that this neighbor was a mortal 
enemy of his father, and of all his family. 

As an illustration of the irresistible influence of his 
language I will cite a fact, which is certainly not very im- 
portant, but nevertheless is very characteristic. Valerian 
Ossinsky was one of the most famous collectors of money. 
The Revolutionary party, especially after the Terrorism 
had been elevated into a system, had great need of money, 
and to find it was always a most difficult task. 

In this branch few could be compared with Valerian 
Ossinsky. His achievements of this nature were common 
talk, so marvellous were they. A close-fisted gentleman or 
a miserly old lady would be profuse in their pity for the 
Revolutionists, and in their sympathy with liberal ideas, 
and yet kept their purse strings tight, and were the despair 



88 RE VOL UTIONA RY PR FILES. 

of all who tried to induce them to give more efficacious in- 
dications of their sentiments. The cleverest succeeded in 
obtaining from them only some ten or twenty roubles, and 
these were lucky indeed. 

Let but Valerian Ossinsky present himself, however, 
and the close-fisted gentleman and the miserly old lady 
opened their heavy purses with a sigh, and drew forth, in 
some cases, five thousand, in other cases ten thousand 
roubles, sometimes more, and gave them to this irresistible 
young man, whose language was so eloquent, whose coun- 
tenance was so attractive, and whose bearing was so gentle 
and courteous. 

He had nothing about him of the pedantic moralist, or 
of the priest. He was a warrior, strong of heart and arm. 
He loved danger, for he was at home in it, as in his natural 
element. The struggle inflamed him with its feverish 
excitement. He loved glory. He loved women — and was 
loved in return. 



PETER KRAPOTKINE, 3 9 



FETER KRAPOTKINE. 
I. 

He is not the leader of the Nihilist movement, as he is 
called throughout Europe. He has not even the least in- 
fluence over the modern Russian revolutionary movement ; 
no literary influence, for ever since he has resided abroad 
he has never written except in the French language ; no 
personal influence, for at this moment he is known in 
Russia only by name. This fact, however strange it may 
appear to the reader, is the natural consequence of another. 
Krapotkine is a refugee ; and the political refugees, who 
reside in the various cities of Europe, have not the slight- 
est influence, whether separately or collectively, upon the 
revolutionary movement of their country. 

The thing may appear incredible, yet any man of judg- 
ment who thinks about it for a single moment, will not 
fail to recognize the absolute truth of my assertions. 
Only two things have to be taken into consideration, the 
general character of the Russian movement, and the dis- 
tance between Russia and the countries in which the 
refugees can reside, Switzerland, France, Italy, England ; 



go VOL UTIONAR Y PROFILES. 

for no one would trust himself either in Prussia or Austria. 
I will cite one single fact. To exchange letters with 
Switzerland, which is the nearest country of all, a fort- 
night must always elapse, allowing a few days for the 
reply. 

Now, an order, supposing one has to be given, or even 
advice, would reach St. Petersburg a fortnight, or, at all 
events, ten days after it had been asked for. Now in Russia 
the struggle is no longer carried on exclusively by mental 
effort, as it was five years ago. It is a struggle, arms in 
hand, a thorough war, in which the minutest precautions 
have to be taken in accordance with the latest movements 
of the enemy. Let us suppose that an attempt against the 
Emperor is being prepared. The slightest change in his 
itinerary, in the route he will take, in the measures he will 
adopt for his safety, immediately cause the whole plan of 
attack to be changed. 

What orders could be given from London, from Paris, 
from Switzerland ? Who would be so stupidly presumptu- 
ous as to believe himself in a position to give them ? Who 
would be so stupid as to attribute any value to them ? Let 
us suppose for a moment, that a general wished to carry on 
a war in Turkey, while remaining in St. Petersburg. 
What would be said by every man with a particle of judg- 
ment ? Yet this general would have an immense advan- 
tage, that of possessing the telegraph, while we have noth- 
ing but laggard post. 

It being impossible, therefore, for a refugee to direct op- 
erations, or even to give advice, of any value, upon Russian 
matters ; why should he be informed beforehand of what is 



PETER KRAPOTKINE. gi 

being prepared in Russia ? To run the risk of some letter 
falling into the hands of the police ? To increase the 
perils of this Titanic struggle, as though there were not 
enough already ? 

We have thus another fact resulting from the preced- 
ing. Even the refugees connected with those who belong 
to the party, and who take an active part in everything, 
have not the sligtest knowledge of what is being prepared 
in Russia, From time to time, out of pure friendship, 
they receive some vague hint, without ever knowing any- 
thing for certain, respecting the place, time, or mode of 
execution of the project in embryo. Why communicate 
such things, even to the best of friends, merely to satisfy 
curiosity ? It would be a crime, an infamy, a dishonest 
act : and every earnest man would be the first to reproach 
a friend for such an act. Thus events, such as the putting 
to death of Alexander II., and the explosion in the Winter 
Palace, were as much of a surprise to the refugees as to the 
rest of the world. 

The political influence of the Russian refugees at the 
present moment is reduced, therefore, absolutely to zero. 
Foreign countries are only resting places ; harbors which 
every one makes for, whose barque has been wrecked or 
disabled by the furious waves. Until they can refit, and 
steer towards their native shore, the refugees are poor 
castaways. They may be as intrepid as ever, but they can 
only stand with folded arms, regarding with envious eyes 
the country where the combatants are fighting, dying, con- 
quering, while they, sad and idle, stifle in their forced in- 
action, strangers in a strange land. 



9 2 



HE VOL UTIOXA R Y PROFILES. 



II. 

Krapotkine is one of the oldest of the refugees. For six 
years he has continually lived abroad, and during all that 
time has, therefore, been unable to take the slightest part 
in the Russian revolutionary movement. This does not 
alter the fact, however, that he is one of the most promi- 
nent men of our party, and as such I will speak about 
him. 

He belongs to the highest Russian aristocracy. The 
family of the Princes of Krapotkine is one of the few which 
descend in right line from the old feudatory Princes of the 
ancient royal House of Rurik. In the Circle of the ciai- 
kovzi to which he belonged, it used thus to be jestingly 
said of him, that he had more right to the throne of Russia 
than the Emperor, Alexander II., who was only a Ger- 
man. 

He studied in the college of the Pages, to which only 
the sons of the Court aristocracy are admitted. He finished 
-his course there with the highest distinction, toward the 
year 1861, but impelled by love of study, instead ot enter- 
ing the service of the court, he went to Siberia to pursue 
some geological researches. He remained there several 
years, taking part in many scientific expeditions, and ob- 
tained through them a vast amount of information which 
he afterwards utilized in conjunction with Mr. Elisee 
Reclus. He also visited China. 

On returning to St. Petersburg, he was elected a mem- 



PETER KRA PO Tf'INE, 93 

bcr and afterwards secretary of the Geographical Society. 
He wrote several works, highly appreciated by scientific 
men, and finally undertook a great work upon the glaciers 
of Finland, which, owing to a petition of the Geographical 
Society, he was permitted to terminate, when already con- 
fined in the fortress. He could not relieve himself from 
the necessity of entering the Court service. He was Cham- 
berlain of the Empress, and received several decorations. 

In the year 187 1, or at the commencement of 1S72, I 
do not quite remember which, he went abroad. He visited 
Belgium and Switzerland, where at that time the "Inter- 
nationale " had assumed such proportions. His ideas, 
which certainly were always advanced, took their definite 
shape. He became an Internationalist, and adopted the 
ideas of the most extreme party, the so-called anarchical 
party, of which he has always remained a fervent cham- 
pion. 

On returning home he put himself in communication 
with the revolutionary Circle, inspired by the same ideas, 
that of the ciaikovzi, and in the year 1872 was proposed as 
a member, and admitted by unanimity. He was entrusted 
with the duty of drawing up the programme of the party, 
and its organization, which was afterwards found among 
his papers. In the winter of 1872 he commenced his 
secret lectures upon the history of the " Internationale," 
which were simply the development of the principles of 
Socialism, and the Revolution, based upon the history of 
all the modern popular movements. These lectures, 
which to depth of thought united a clearness and a 
simplicity that rendered them intelligible to the most tin- 



94 RE VOL UTIOXAR Y PROFILES. 

cultivated minds, excited the deepest interest among the 
workingmen of the Alexander-Nevsky district. They 
spoke about them to their fellow workmen, and the news 
quickly spread through all the workshops of the neighbor- 
hood, and naturally reached the police, who determined 
at all hazards to find out the famous Borodin, for it was 
under that fictitious name Krapotkine gave his lectures. 
But they did not succeed. In two months' time, having 
finished his lectures, he no longer showed himself in the 
house under surveillance, and made preparations to go 
among the peasants, and cany* on the agitation as an itine- 
rant painter ; for in addition to his vast erudition, he has 
much artistic talent. 

The police succeeded, however, in bribing one of the 
workmen, who consented to play the spy, and perambu- 
lated the principal streets, hoping some day or other to meet 
with " Borodin.'"'" In this he succeeded. After some few 
months he met Krapotkine in the Gostini Dvor upon the 
Nevski Prospekt, and pointed him out to a policeman. 
The supposititious Borodin was arrested. At first he 
would not tell his real name, but it was impossible to con- 
ceal it. Some days afterwards the landlady of the house 
in which he had hired a room, came to declare that one of 
her lodgers, Prince Peter Krapotkine, had suddenly dis- 
appeared on such a day. On being taken to the spurious 
Borodin she recognized him, and Krapotkine was com- 
pelled to acknowledge his identity. 

Great was the emotion produced at court by the arrest 
of such a high personage. The Emperor himself was ex- 
cited by it to such an extent, that a year afterwards, in 



FE TER KRA PO'l l KL \ r E. r, 5 

passing through Karkoff, where a cousin of Peter, Alexis 
Krapotkine, killed in the year 1879, was Governor, he was 
extremely discourteous to him, and abruptly asked if it 
was true that Peter was a relation. 

Three years did Krapotkine pass in the cells of the 
fortress of St. Peter and St. Paul. In the early part of 
1876, he was transferred by the doctor's orders to the St. 
Nicholas Hospital, the prison having undermined his 
health, never very good, to such an extent, that he could 
neither eat nor move about. In a few months, however, 
it was re-established, but he did everything in his power to 
hide the fact. He walked with the step of a dying man ; 
he spoke in a low voice, as if merely to open the mouth 
were a painful effort. The cause was very simple. He 
learned through a letter sent to him by his friends, that 
an attempt was being organized to effect his escape, and 
as in the hospital the surveillance was much less strict 
than in the fortress, it was essential to prolong his stay 
there. 

In the July of the year 1876 this escape was effected 
in accordance with a plan drawn up by Krapotkine him- 
self. I will relate it in one of my subsequent sketches, 
for it was a masterpiece of accurate calculation and resolu- 
tion. 

III. 

Some weeks afterwards Krapotkine was already abroad. 
From this period his true revolutionary activity dates. 
Although not connected with the Russian movement, be- 



96 RE VOL UTIOXAR Y PROFILES. 

ing exclusively devoted to European Socialism, it was per- 
haps the only means of displaying his eminent political 
qualities in their true light. His great gifts specially 
qualify him for activity in the vast public arena, and not in 
the underground regions of the Secret Societies. 

He is wanting in that flexibility of mind, and that 
faculty of adapting himself to the conditions of the mo- 
ment, and of practical life, which are indispensable to a 
conspirator. He is an ardent searcher after truth, a foun- 
der of a school, and not a practical man. He endeavors 
to make certain ideas prevail, at all cost, and not to attain 
a practical end, by turning everything tending to it to ac- 
count. 

He is too exclusive, and rigid in his theoretical convic- 
tions. He admits no departure from the ultra-anarchical 
programme, and has always considered it impossible, there- 
fore, to contribute to any of the revolutionary newspapers 
in the Russian language, published abroad and in St. 
Petersburg. He has always found in them some point of 
divergence, and, in fact, has never written a line in any 
of them. 

It may be doubted whether he could ever be the leader, 
or even the organizer of a party, with conspiracy as its sole 
means of action. For conspiracy, in the great revolu- 
tionary struggle, is like guerrilla fighting in military war- 
fare. The men are few, and therefore all must be made 
use of. The ground is confined, and therefore must be 
turned to the best account ; and a good guerrilla soldier is 
the man who knows how to adapt himself to the exigencies 
of the ground, and of the moment. 



PETER ICR A PO TKIXE. 97 

Krapotklne's natural element is war on a grand scale, 
and not guerrilla fighting. He might become the founder 
of a vast Social movement, if the condition of the country 
permitted. 

He is an incomparable agitator. Gifted with a ready 
and eager eloquence, he becomes all passion when he 
mounts the platform. Like all true orators, he is stimu- 
lated by the sight of the crowd which is listening to him. 
Upon the platform this man is transformed. He trembles 
with emotion ; his voice vibrates with that accent of pro- 
found conviction, not to be mistaken or counterfeited, and 
only heard when it is not merely the mouth which speaks, 
but the innermost heart. His speeches, although he can- 
not be called an orator of the first rank, produce an im- 
mense impression ; for when feeling is so intense it is com- 
municative, and electrifies an audience. 

When, pale and trembling, he descends from the plat- 
form, the whole room throbs with applause. 

He is very effective in private discussions, and can con- 
vince and gain over to his opinions, as few can. Being 
thoroughly versed in historical science, especially in every- 
thing relating to popular movements, he draws with mar- 
vellous effect from the vast stores of his erudition, in order 
to support and strengthen his assertions with examples and 
analogies, very original and unexpected. His words thus 
acquire an extraordinary power of persuasion, which is in- 
creased by the simplicity and clearness of his explanations? 
due, perhaps, ^0 his profound mathematical studies. 

He is not a mere manufacturer of books. Beyond his 
purely scientific labors, he has never written any work of 



9 g RE VOL UTIOKAR Y PROFILES, 

much moment. He is an excellent journalist, ardent, 
spirited, eager. Even in his writings, he is still the agita- 
tor. 

To these talents he adds a surprising activity, and such 
dexterity in his labors, that it has astonished even a 
worker like Elisee Keclus. 

He is one of the most sincere and frank of men. He 
always says the truth, pure and simple, without any regard 
for the amour prop?-e of his hearers, or for any considera- 
tion whatever. This is the most striking and sympathetic 
feature of his character. Ever)' word he says may be 
absolutely believed. His sincerity is such, that sometimes 
in the ardor of discussion an entirely fresh consideration 
unexpectedly presents itself to his mind, and sets him 
thinking. He immediately stops, remains quite absorbed 
for a moment, and then begins to think aloud, speaking as 
though he were an opponent. At other times he carries 
on this discussion mentally, and after some moments of 
silence, turning to his astonished adversary, smilingly says, 
" You are right." 

This absolute sincerity renders him the best of friends, 
and gives especial weight to his praise and blame. 



DEMETRIUS LISOGUB. 



I. 

In the December of the year 1876 I was present one 
da)- at one of those " Students' meetings," as they are called - 
one of the best means of propagandism among the young, 
and very characteristic of Russian life. It need scarcely 
be said that they are rigorously prohibited. But such is 
the abyss that separates society from the Government, thai 
they are held, and were alwa s held in the worst pe- 
riods of the White Terror. Sometimes they are very large 
meetings, almost public, and extremely stormy. 

The clanger by which they are surrounded communi- 
cates to them a special attraction for the young, giving to 
the discussions that passionate character which contri- 
butes so much to transform an idea into a warlike weapon. 

The meeting of which I speak, however, was not a 
large one, and was very quiet. It was occupied with a 
project so frequently brought forward and so frequently 
ending in nothing, for uniting in a single organization all 
the secret Circles established among the young. The 
thing being evidently impracticable, owing to the great 
variety of those Circles, the project might be regarded as 
still-born. Even the promoters of the meeting seemed 



I oo ££ F0Z CTIOXAR V PROFILES. 

half convinced of this. The discussion therefore dragged 
on wearily, and had no interest. 

Among the few persons present, there was, however, 
one who succeeded in arousing the general attention, 
whenever, during the languishing discussion, he made 
some little observation, always spirited and slightly whimsi- 
cal. He was tall. pale, and somewhat slim. He wore a 
long beard, which gave him an apostolic appearance. He 
was not handsome. It is impossible to imagine, however, 
anything more pleasant than the expression of his large 
blue eyes, shaded by long eyebrows, or anything more at- 
tractive than his smile, which had something infantile 
about it. His voice, somewhat slow in utterance and al- 
ways pitched in the same key, soothed the ear, like the 
low notes of a song. It was not a musical voice, but it 
had the power of penetrating into the very heart, so sym- 
pathetic was it. 

He was very poorly clad. Although the Russian win- 
ter was raging, he wore a linen jacket with large wooden 
buttons, which from much wear and tear seemed a mere 
ra£. A worn-out black cloth waiscoat covered his chest 
to the throat. His trousers, very light in color, could be 
seen underneath the black line of his waistcoat every time 
he rose to say a word or two. 

When the meeting broke up and those attending it 
went away, not all at once, but in groups of three or four 
persons, as is always the case in Russia upon similar oc- 
casions, I left with my friend together with this stranger. 
I observed that he had only a thin paletot, an old red cor.'- 
forter, and a leather cap. He did not even wear the trad:- 



DEMETRIUS LISOGUB. XOI 

lional " plaid'' of the Nihilists, although the temperature 
was at least twenty degrees below zero. 

After bowing to my friend, whom he evidently was 
slightly acquainted with, the stranger went on his way, al- 
most running to warm himself a little, and in a few mo- 
ments disappeared in the distance. 

" Who is he ? " I asked my friend. 

" He is Demetrius Lisogub," was the reply. 

" Lisogub, of Cernigov ? " 

" Precisely.'' 

Involuntarily I looked in the direction in which this 
man had disappeared, as though I could still discern traces 
of him. 

This Lisogub was a millionaire. He had a very large 
estate in one of the best provinces of Russia, land, houses, 
forests ; but he lived in greater poverty than the humblest 
of his dependents, he devoted all his money to the cause. 

II. 

Two years afterwards we met again in St. Petersburg 
as members of the same Revolution ary organization. Men 
know each other as thoroughly in such organizations as in 
the intimacy of family life. 

I will not say that Demetrius Lisogub was the purest, 
the most ideal man whom I have ever known, for that 
would be to say too little of him. I will say that in all 
our party there was not, and could not, be a man to com- 
pare with him in ideal beauty of character. 

The complete sacrifice of all his immense wealth \va<= 
in him the least of his merits. Many have done the : 



, o3 RE VOL UTIONAR Y PROFILES, 

in our party, but another Demetrius Lisogub is not to be 
found in it. 

Under an aspect tranquil and placid as an unclouded 
sky, he concealed a mind full of fire, of enthusiasm, of ar- 
dor. His convictions were his religion, and he devoted 
to them, not only all his life, but what is much more diffi- 
cult, all his thoughts. He had no other thought than that 
of serving his cause. He had no family. Love did not 
disturb him. His parsimony was carried to such an ex- 
treme, that friends were obliged to interfere in order to 
prevent him falling ill from excessive privation. To every 
remonstrance he replied, as if he foresaw his premature 
end: 

H Mine will not be a long life." 
And in truth it was not. 

His determination not to spend a single farthing of the 
money with which he could serve the cause, was such, that 
he never indulged in an omnibus, to say nothing of a cab, 
which costs so little with us that every workman takes one 
on Sunday. 

I remember that one day he showed us two articles, 
forming part of his dress suit, which he wore when, owing 
to his position, he was compelled to pay a visit to the 
Governor of Cernigov, or to one of the heads of the Su- 
perior Police. They were a pair of gloves and an opera hat. 
The gloves were of a very delicate ash color, and seemed 
just purchased. He, however, told us that he had already 
had them for three years, and smili igly explained to us 
the little artifices he adopted to keep them always new. 
The hat was a much more serious matter, for its spring 



DEMETRIUS LIS CUB. ro3 

had been broken a whole year, and he put off the expense 
of purchasing a new one from day to clay, because he al- 
ways found that he could employ his money better. Mean- 
while, to keep up his dignity, he entered the drawing-room 
holding his opera-hat under his arm, his eternal leather 
cap, which he wore summer and winter alike, being in his 
pocket. When he passed into the street, he advanced a 
few steps with his head uncovered, as though he had to 
smooth his disarranged hair, Lin til, being assured that he 
was not observed, he drew the famous cap from his 
pocket. 

This money, however, that he endeavored to save with 
the jealous care of a Harpagon, was his determined enemy, 
his eternal torment, his curse : for, with his impassioned 
disposition and with his heart so prone to sacrifice, he 
suffered immensely from being compelled to remain with 
his arms folded, a mere spectator of the struggle and of 
the martyrdom of his best friends. 

Subjected to a rigorous surveilliance, having been de- 
nounced for participation in the Revolutionary movement 
by his relations, who hoped, if he were condemned, to in- 
herit his fortune, he could do nothing, for at the first step, 
his property would have been taken away from him, and his 
party would thereby have been deprived of such indispens- 
able assistance. Thus his fortune was, to him, like the 
cannon-ball attached to the leg of a galley slave ; it hin- 
dered him from moving about. 

His involuntary inaction was not only an annoyance, a 
cruel vexation, as it could not fail to be to a man who united 
iu himself the ardor of a warrior with that of a prophet, it was 



1 04 EE VOL UTIOXAR Y PROFILES. 

also a source of profound moral suffering. With the 
modesty of a great mind, he attributed to himself not the 
slightest merit for what seemed to him the most natural 
thing in the world, — the renunciation of his wealth, and his 
life of privation. 

Merciless towards himself, as a cruel judge who will not 
hear reason, and refuses to consider anything but the crime 
pure and simple, he regarded his inactivity 7 , which was only 
an act of the highest abnegation, as a disgrace. Yet this 
man, who at the sacrifice of his own aspirations, sustained for 
a year and a half almost the whole Russian revolutionary 
movement ; this man, w 7 ho by his moral qualities inspired 
unbounded admiration among all who knew him ; who, by 
his mere presence, conferred distinction on the party to 
which he belonged ; this man regarded himself as the hum- 
blest of the very humble. 

Hence arose his profound melancholy, which never left 
him, and showed itself in his every word, notwithstanding 
the sorrowfully whimsical tone he was accustomed to adopt, 
in order to conceal it. 

Thus, resigned and sad, he bore his cross, which some- 
times crushed him beneath its weight, throughout his whole 
, life, without ever rebelling against his cruel lot. 

He was a most unhappy man. 

He was arrested at Odessa in the autumn of the year 
1878, on the accusation of his steward, Drigo, who was a 
friend, but who betrayed him because the Government 
promised to give him what still remained of the patrimony 
of Lisogub, — about ,£4,000. 



DEMETKIUS L ISO CUB. 105 

Although a veritable White Terror was prevailing at 
that time, and in Odessa, where he was to be tried, the 
hero of Sebastopol, and of Plevna, the infamous ruffian and 
oppressor, Count Totdleben, was in a fury, no one expected 
a severer punishment of Lisogub than transportation to 
Siberia, or perhaps some few years of hard labor ; for 
nothing else was laid to his charge than that of having 
spent his own money, no one knew how. The evidence, 
however, of Drigo left no doubt upon the very tender con- 
science of the military tribunal. 

Amid universal consternation, Demetrius Lisogub was 
condemned to death. Eye-witnesses state that, after hear- 
ing his sentence, his jaw fell, so great was his astonish- 
ment. 

He scornfully refused the proposal made to him to save 
his life by petitioning for pardon. 

On August 8, 1879, he was taken to the scaffold in the 
hangman's cart with two companions, CiubarofI and 
Davidenko. 

Those who saw him pass, say that not only was he calm 
and peaceful, but that his pleasant smile played upon his 
lips when he addressed cheering words to his companions. 
At last he could satisfy his ardent desire to sacrifice him- 
self for his cause. It was perhaps the happiest moment of 
his unhappy life. 

Stefanovic was the Organizer : Clemens the Thinker : 
Ossinsky the Warrior ; Krapotkine the Agitator. 
Demetrius Lisogub was the Saint. 



JESSY HELFMAN. 



There are unknown heroines, obscure toilers, who offer 
up everything upon the altar of their cause, without ask- 
ing anything for themselves. They assume the most 
ungrateful parts ; sacrifice themselves for the merest 
trifles; for lending their names to the correspondence of 
others ; for sheltering a man, often unknown to them ; for 
delivering a parcel without knowing what it contains. 
Poets do not dedicate verses to them ; history will not 
inscribe their names upon its records ; a grateful posterity 
will not remember them. Without their labor, however, 
the party could not exist ; every struggle would become 
impossible. 

Yet the wave of history carries away one of these 
toilers from the obscure concealment in which she ex- 
pected to pass her life, and bears her on high upon its 
sparkling crest, to a universal celebrity. Then all regard 
this countenance, which is so modest, and discern in it 
the indications of a force of mind, of an abnegation, of a 
courage, which excite astonishment among the boldest. 

Such is precisely the story of Jessy Helfman. 

I did not know her personally. If I deviate, however, 
in this case from my plan of speaking only of those whom 



JESSY ITELFMAN-. IO j 

I know personally, I do not do so because of the fame 
which her name has gained, but because of her moral 
qualities, to which her celebrity justifies allusion. J am 
sure the reader will be grateful to me for this, as her 
simple and sympathetic figure characterizes the party 
which I am depicting, better perhaps than an example of 
exceptional power ; just as a modest wild-Mower gives a 
better idea of the flora of a country, than a wonderful and 
rare plant. 

Jessy Helfman belonged to a Jewish family, fanati- 
cally devoted to their religion, a type unknown in countries 
where civilization has eradicated religious hatred, but which 
is very common in Russia. Her family regarded as an 
abomination everything derived from Christians, especially 
their science, which teaches its disciples to despise the 
religion of their fathers. Jessy, excited by the new idea, 
and unable to bear this yoke, fled from her parents' 
house, taking with her, as her sole inheritance, the 
malediction of these fanatics, who would willingly have 
seen her in her coffin rather than fraternizing with the " goi." 
The girl proceeded to Kieff, where she worked as a seam- 
stress. 

The year 1874 came. The Revolutionary movement 
spread everywhere, and reached even the young Jewish 
seamstress. 

She made acquaintance with some of the ladies, who 
had returned from Zurich, and who afterwards figured in 
the trial of the ffty, and they induced her to join the 
movement. Her part, however, was a very modest one. 



l qS RE VOL UTIONA RY PR FILES. 

She lent her address for the Revolutionary correspondence. 
When, however, the conspiracy was discovered, this 
horrible " crime 5 ' subjected her to two years, neither mere 
nor less, of imprisonment, and a sentence of two more 
years' attention at Litovsky. Shut up with four or five women, 
confined for participation in the same movement, Jessy for 
the first time was really initiated into the principles of 
Socialism, and surrendered herself to them body and soul 
She was, however, unable to put her ideas into practice, 
for, after having undergone her punishment, instead of 
being set at liberty she was by order of the police interned 
in one of the northern provinces, and remained there un- 
til the autumn of the year 1879, when, profiting by the 
carelessness of her guardians, she escaped and went to 
St. Petersburg. Here, full of enthusiasm, which increased 
in her all the more from having been so long restrained,, 
she threw herself ardently into the struggle, eager to 
satisfy that intense craving to labor for the cause which 
became in her a passion. 

Always energetic, and always cheerful, she was con- 
tent with little, if she could but labor for the benefit of 
the cause. She did everything ; letter-carrier, messenger, 
sentinel ; and often her work was so heavy that it exhausted 
even her strength, although she was a woman belonging to 
the working classes. How often has she returned home, 
late at night, worn out, and at the end of her strength, 
having for fourteen hours walked about all over the cap- 
ital, throwing letters into various holes and corners with 
the proclamations of the Executive Committee. But on 
the following day she rose and recommenced her work. 



JESSY HELFMAN. I09 

She was always ready to render every service to any 
one who needed it, without thinking of the trouble it might 
ccst her. She never gave a single thought to herself. To 
give an idea of the moral force and boundless devotion of 
this simple, uneducated woman, it will suffice to relate 
the story of the last few months of her revolutionary 
activity. Her husband, Nicholas Kolotkevic, one of the 
best known and most esteemed members of the Terrorist 
party, was arrested in the month of February. A capital 
sentence hung over his head. But she remained in the 
ranks of the combatants, keeping her anguish to herself. 
Although four months pregnant, she undertook the 
terrible duty of acting as the mistress of the house where 
the bombs of Kibalcic were manufactured, and remained 
there all the time, until, a week after March 13, she was 
again arrested. 

On the day of her sentence she stood cheerful and 
smiling before the tribunal, which was to send her to 
the scaffold. She had, however, a sentence more horrible, 
that of awaiting for four months for her punishment. 
This moral torture she bore during the never-ending months 
without a moment of weakness, for the Government, not 
caring to arouse the indignation of Europe by hanging her, 
endeavored to profit by her position, to extract some 
revelations from her. It prolonged, therefore, her moral 
torture until her life, might have been endangered, and 
did not commute her sentence until some weeks before 
her confinement. 



VERA ZASSULIC. 



In the whole range of history it would be difficult, and, 
perhaps, impossible to find a name which, at a bound, 
has risen into such universal and undisputed celebrity. 

Absolutely unknown the day before, that name was 
for months in every mouth, inflaming the generous hearts 
of the two worlds, and it became a kind of synonym of 
heroism and sacrifice. The person, however, who was the 
object of this enthusiasm obstinately shunned fame. She 
avoided all ovations, and, although it was very soon known 
that she was already living abroad, where she could openly 
show herself without any danger, she remained hidden in 
the crowd, and would never break through her privacy. 

In the absence of correct information imagination 
entered the field. Who was this dazzling and mysterious 
being? her numerous admirers asked each other. And 
every one painted her according to his fancy. 

People of gentle and sentimental dispositions pictuied 
her as a poetical young girl, sweet, ecstatic as a Christian 
martyr, all abnegation, and love. 

Those who rather leaned towards Radicalism, pictured 
her as a Nemesis of modern days, with a revolver in one 
hand, the red flag: in the other, and emphatic expressions 



VERA ZASSULTC. XII 

in her mouth ; ternble and haughty — the Revolution per- 
sonified. 

Both were profoundly mistaken. 

Zassulic has nothing about her of the heroine of a 
pseudo-Radical tragedy, nor of the ethereal and ecstatic 
young girl. 

She is a strong, robust woman, and, although of middle 
height, seems at first sight to be tall. She is not beautiful 
Her eyes are very fine, large, well-shaped, with long lashes, 
and of gray color, which become dark when she is excited. 
Ordinarily thoughtful and somewhat sad, these eyes shine 
forth biilliantly whin she is enthusiastic, which not unfre- 
quently happens, or sparkle when she jests, which happens 
very often. The slightest change of mind is reflected in 
the expressive eyes. The rest of her face is very com- 
monplace. Her nose somewhat long, thin lips, large head, 
adorned with almost black hair. 

She is very negligent with regard to her appearance. 
She gives no thought to it whatever. She has not the 
slightest trace of the desire which almost every woman 
has, of displaying her beauty. She is too abstracted, too 
deeply immersed in her thoughts, to continuously give heed 
to things which interest her so little. 

There is one thing, however, which corresponds even 
less than her exterior with the idea of an ethereal young 
girl ; it is her voice. At first she speaks like most people. 
But this preliminary state continues a very short time. No 
sooner do her words become animated, than she raises her 
voice, and speaks as loud as though she were addressing 
some one half deaf, or at least a hundred yards distant- 



H2 RE VOL U-TIONAR V PROFILES. 

Notwithstanding every effort, she cannot break herself of 
this habit. She is so abstracted, that she immediately for- 
gets the banter of her friends, and her own determination 
to speak like the rest of the world in order to avoid obser- 
vation. In the street, directly some interesting subject is 
touched upon, she immediately begins to exclaim, accom- 
panying her words with her favorite and invariable gesture, 
cleaving the air energetically with her right hand, as 
though with a sword. 

Under this aspect, so simple, rough, and unpoetical. 
she conceals, however, a mind full of the highest 
pcetry, profound and powerful, full of indignation and 
love. 

She is extremely reserved, although at first she seems 
quite the contrary, for she speaks very willingly, and talks 
about everything. She admits very few into her intimacy. 
I do not speak of that superficial intimacy which is simply 
the result of esteem and reciprocal confidence, and among 
us is the rule, but of that other intimacy which consists in 
the exchange of the most secret thoughts. 

She is incapable of the spontaneous friendship of 
young and inexperienced minds. She proceeds cautiously, 
never advancing to supply with imagination the defici- 
encies of positive observation. She has but few friends, 
almost all belonging to her former connections ; but in 
them is her world, separated from every one else by a bar- 
rier almost insurmountable. 

She lives much within herself. She is very subject to 
the special malady of the Russians, that of probing her 



VERA ZASSULIC. 113 

own mind, sounding its depths, pitilessly dissecting it 
searching for defects, often imaginary, and always exag- 
gerated. 

Hence those gloomy moods which from time to time 
assail her, like King Saul, and subjugate her for days and 
days, nothing being able to drive them away. At these 
times she becomes abstracted, shuns all society, and for 
hours together paces her room completely buried in thought, 
or flies from the house to seek relief where alone she can 
find it, in Nature, eternal, impassible, and imposing, which 
she loves and interprets with the profound feeling of a tru- 
ly poetical mind. All night long, often until sunrise, she 
wanders alone among the wild mountains of Switzerland, 
or rambles on the banks of its immense lakes. 

She has that sublime craving, the scource of great 
deeds, which in her is the result of an extreme idealism, 
the basis of her character. Her devotion to the cause of 
Socialism, which she espoused while a mere girl, assumed 
the shape in her mind of fixed ideas upon her own duties, 
so elevated that no human force could satisfy them. Every- 
thing seems small to her. One of her friends, X., the 
painter of whom I spoke just now, who had known Zassulic 
for ten years, and was a very intelligent and clever woman, 
seeing her only a few weeks after her acquittal, a prey to 
these gloomy humors, used to say : — 

" Vera would like to shoot TrepofTs every day, or at 
least once a week. And, as this cannot be done, she frets." 

Thereupon X. tried to prove to Zassulic that we cannot 
sacrifice ourselves every Sunday as our Lord is sacrificed ; 
that we must be contented, and do as others do. 



114 RE VOL UTIOXA RY PR O FILES. 

Vera did so, but she was not cured Her feelings had 
nothing in common with those of the ambitious who want 
to soar above others. Not only before, but even after her 
name had become so celebrated, that is, during her last 
journey in Russia, she undertook the most humble and 
most ordinary posts ; that of compositor in a printing office, 
of landlady, of housemaid, etc. 

She filled all these with unexceptionable care and dili- 
gence ; but this did not bring peace to her heart. So it 
was. 

I remember that one clay, in relating to me how she 
felt when she received from the President of the Court the 
announcement of her acquittal, she said that it was not joy 
she experienced, but extreme astonishment, immediately 
followed by a feeling of sadness. 

" I could not explain this feeling then," she added, 
"but I have understood it since. Had I been convicted. 
I should have been prevented by main force from doing 
anything, and should have been tranquil, and the thought of 
having done all I was able to do for the cause would have 
been a consolation to me." This little remark, which has 
remained as though engraven upon my memory, illustrates 
her character better than pages of comments. 

A modesty, unique, unequalled, and incomparable, is 
only another form of this extreme idealism. It may be 
called the sign of a lofty mind to which heroism is natural 
and logical, and appears, therefore, in a form divinely 
simple. 

In the midst of universal enthusiasm and true adora- 



rZRA ZASSULIC. 115 

tion, Zassulic preserved all the simplicity of manner, 
all the purity of mind, which distinguished her before 
her name became surrounded by the aureole of an im- 
mortal glory. That glory, which would have turned t he 
head of the strongest Stoic, left her so phlegmatic and in- 
different, that the fact would be absolutely incredible, were 
it not attested by all who have approached her, if only for 
a moment. 

This fact, unique perhaps in the history of the human 
heart, of itself suffices to show the depth of her character, 
which is entirely self-sustained, and neither needs nor is 
able to derive any inspiration or impulse from external 
sources. 

Having accomplished her great deed from profound 
moral conviction, without the least shadow of ambition, 
Zassulic held completely aloof from every manifestation of 
the sentiments which that deed aroused in others. This is 
why she has always obstinately avoided showing herself in 
public. 

This reserve is no mere girlish restraint. It is a noble 
moral modesty, which forbids her to receive the homage of 
admiration for what, in the supreme elevation of her ideal 
conceptions, she. refuses to consider as an act of heroism. 
Thus this same Vera, who is so fond of society, who is fond 
of talking, who never fails to enter into the most ardent 
discussion with any one who appears to her to be in the 
wrong; this Vera no sooner enters any assembly what- 
ever, where she knows she is being regarded as Vera Zas- 
sulic, than she immediately undergoes a change. She be- 
comes timid and bashful as a girl who has just left school* 



1 1 6 RE VOL UTIONA RY PR FILES. 

Even her voice, instead of deafening the ear, undergoes a 
marvellous transformation ; it becomes sweet, delicate, and 
gentle, in fact an "angelic " voice, as her friends jestingly 
say. 

But that voice of hers is very rarely heard, for in public 
gatherings Vera ordinarily remains as silent as the grave. 
She must have a question much at heart, to rise and say a 
few words about it. 

To appreciate her originality of mind and her charm- 
ing conversation, she must be seen at home, among friends, 
There alone does she give full scope to her vivacious and 
playful spirit. Her conversation is original, exuberant, 
diversified, combining racy humor with a certain youthful 
candor. Some of her remarks are true gems, not like 
those seen in the windows of the jewellers, but like 
those which prolific Nature spontaneously scatters in her 
lap. 

The characteristic feature of her mind is originality. 
Endowed with a force of reasoning of the highest order, 
Zassulic has cultivated it by earnest and diversified studies 
during the long years of her exile in various towns in Russia. 
She has the faculty, which is so rare, of always thinking for 
herself, both in great things and in small. She is inca- 
pable by nature of following the beaten tracks, simply be- 
cause they are the tracks of many, She verifies, she criti- 
cises everything, accepting nothing without a serious and 
minute examination. She thus gives her own impress even 
to the tritest things, which ordinarily are admitted and re- 
peated by everybody without a thought, and this imparts to 



VERA ZASSULIC. 



her arguments and to her ideas a charming freshness and 
vivacity. 

This originality and independence of thought, united 
with her general moral character, produce another pe- 
culiarity, perhaps the most estimable of this very fine type. 
I speak of that almost infallible moral instinct which is pe- 
culiar to her, of that faculty of discernment in the most per- 
plexing and subtle questions, of good and evil, of the per- 
mitted and the forbidden, which she possesses, without 
being able, sometimes, to give a positive reason for her 
opinion. This instinct she admirably evinced in her con- 
duct before the court on the day of her memorable trial, to 
which, in great part, its unexpected result is to be attri- 
buted, and in many internal questions. 

Her advice and opinions, even when she does not state 
her reasons, are always worthy of the highest consideration, 
because they are very rarely wrong. 

Thus Zassulic has everything to make her what might 
be called the conscience of a Circle, of an organization, of 
a party; but great as is her moral influence, Zassulic can- 
not be considered as a model of political influence. She is 
too much concentrated in herself to influence others. She 
does not give advice, unless she is expressly asked to give 
it. She does not on her own initiative interfere with the 
affairs of others, in order to have them arranged in her own 
manner, as an organizer or an agitator endeavors to do. 
She does her duty as her conscience prescribes, without 
endeavoring to lead others by her example. 

Her very idealism, so noble and so prolific, which makes 
her always eager for great deeds, renders her incapable ot 



l l6 RE VOL UT10NAR V PROFILES* 

uevoting herself with all her heart to the mean and petty 
details of daily labor. 

She is a woman for great decisions and for great occa= 
sions. 

Another woman presents to us the example of an inde- 
fatigable and powerful combatant, whose imposing form I 
will now endeavor, full of fear and doubt of my capacity, 
to delineate in the following chapter. 



SOPHIA PEROVSKAIA. 



She was beautiful. It was not the beauty which dazzles 
at first sight, but that which fascinates the more, the more 
it is regarded. 

A blonde, with a pair of blue eyes, serious, and pene- 
trating, under a broad and spacious forehead. A delicate 
little nose, a charming mouth, which showed, when she 
smiled two rows of very fine white teeth. 

It was, however, her countenance as a whole which was 
the attraction. There was something brisk, vivacious, and 
at the same time, ingenuous in her rounded face. She was 
girlhood personified. Notwithstanding her twenty-six years, 
she seemed scarcely eighteen. A small, slender, and very 
graceful figure, and a voice as charming, silvery, and sym. 
pathetic as could be, heightened this illusion. It became 
almost a certainty, when she began to laugh, which very 
often happened. She had the ready laugh of a girl, and 
laughed with so much heartiness, and so unaffectedly, that 
she really seemed a young lass of sixteen. 

She gave little thought to her appearance. She dressed 
in the most modest manner, and perhaps did not even 



1 2 o RE VOL UTIONAR Y PR FILES. 

know what dress or ornament was becoming or unbecom. 
ing. But she had a passion for neatness, and in this was 

as punctilious as a Swiss girl. 

She was very fond of children, and was an excellent 
schoolmistress. There was, however, another office that 
she filled even better; that of nurse. When any of her 
friends fell ill, Sophia was the first to offer herself for this 
difficult duty, and she performed that duty with such gen- 
tleness, cheerfulness, and patience, that she won the hearts 
of her patients, for all time. 

Yet this woman with such an innocent appearance, and 
with such a sweet and affectionate disposition, w r as one of 
the most dreaded members of the Terrorist party 

It was she who had the direction of the attempt of 
March 13 ; it was she, who, with a pencil, drew out upon 
an old envelope the plan of the locality, who assigned to 
the conspirators their respective posts, and" who, upon the 
fatal morning, remained upon the field of battle, receiving 
from her sentinels news of the Emperor's movements, and 
informing the conspirators, by means of a handkerchief, 
where they were to proceed. 

What Titanic force was concealed under this serene ap- 
pearance ? What qualities did this extraordinary woman 
possess ? 

She united in herself the three forces which of them- 
selves constitute power of the highest order; a profound 
and vast capacity, an enthusiastic and ardent disposition, 
and, above all, an iron will. 

Sophia Perovskaia belonged, like Krapotkine, to the 
highest aristocracy of Russia. The Perovski are the 



SOPHIA PEKOVSKAIA. !. 

younger branch of the family of the famous Rasumovsky, 
the morganatic husband of the Empress Elizabeth, daughter 
of Peter the Great, who occupied the throne of Russia in 
the middle of the last century (1741-1762). Her grand- 
father was Minister of Public Instruction; her father was 
Governor-General of St. Petersburg ; her paternal uncle, 
the celebrated Count Perovsky, conquered for the Emperor 
Nicholas a considerable part of Central Asia. 

Such was the family to which this woman belonged who 
gave such a tremendous blow to Czarism. 

Sophia was born in the year 1854. Hei youth was 
sorrowful. She had a despotic father, and an adored 
mother, always outraged and humilated. It was in her 
home that the germs were developed in her, of that hatred 
of oppression, and that generous love of the weak and 
oppressed, which she preserved throughout her whole life. 

The story of her early days is that of all the young 
in Russia, and, at the same time, of the revolutionary 
party. To relate it would be to present in a concrete form, 
what I have narrated in an abstract form in my preface. 
For want of space I can only, ■ however, indicate its chief 
features. 

Sophia Perovskaia commenced, like all the women of 
her generation, with the simple desire for instruction. 
When she had entered her fifteenth year, the movement 
for the emancipation of woman was flourishing, and had 
even impressed her eldest sister. Sophia also wished to 
study, but as her father forbade her, she, like so many 
others, ran away from home. 

Concealed in the house of some friends, she sent a 



REVOLUTIONARY PROFILES. 

messenger to parley with her father, who, after having 
raged in vain for some weeks, endeavoring to find his 
daughter by means of the police, ended by coming to 
terms, and consenting to provide Sophia with a passport. 
Her mother secretly sent her a small sum. Sophia was 
free, and began to study eagerly. 

What, however, did the Russian literature of that 
period impart to her ? A bitter criticism of our entire 
Social order, indicating Socialism as the definite object 
and the sole remedy. Her masters were Cerniscevsky 
and Dobrolinboff — the masters, that is, of the whole mod- 
ern generation. With such masters eagerness to acquire 
knowledge quickly changed in her into eagerness to work 
according to the ideas derived from what she had read. 
The same tendency arises spontaneously in many other 
women who are in the same position. Community of ideas 
and aspirations develops among them a feeling of pro-, 
found friendship, and seeing themselves in numbers in- 
spires them with the desire and the hope of doing some- 
thing. 

In this manner we have a secret society in embryo ; 
for in Russia everything that is done for the welfare of the 
country, and not for that of the Emperor, has -to be 
clone in secret. Sophia Perovskaia became intimate with 
the unfortunate family of the KornilofT sisters, the nucleus 
from which was developed, two years afterwards, the Circle 
of the Ciaikovzi, which I have several times mentioned. 
Perovskaia, together with some young students, among 
whom whom was Nicholas Ciaikovsky, who gave his name 
to the future organization, was one of the first members of 



SO Fin A PEROVSKAIA. 



this important Circle, which at first was more like a family 
gathering than a political society. 

The Circle, which at first had no other object than that 
of propngandism among the young, was not a large one. 
The members were always admitted by unanimity. There 
were no rules, for there was no need of any. All the de- 
cisions were always taken by unanimity, and this not very 
practical regulation never led to any unpleasant conse- 
quences or inconvenience, as the reciprocal affection and 
esteem among the members of the Circle were such that 
what the genius of Jean Jacques pictured as the ideal of 
human intercourse was attained ; the minority yielded to 
the majority, not from necessity or compulsion, but spon- 
taneously from inward conviction that it must be right. 

The relations between the members of the Circle were 
the most fraternal that can be imagined. Sincerity and 
thorough frankness were the general rule. All were ac- 
quainted with each other, even more so, perhaps, than the 
members of the same family, and no one wished to con- 
ceal from the others even the least important act of his 
life. Thus every little weakness, every lack of devotion 
to the cause, every trace of egotism, was pointed out, un- 
derlined, sometimes reciprocally reproved, not as would be 
the case by a pedantic mentor, but with affection and re- 
gret, as between brother and brother. 

These ideal relations, impossible in a Circle compris- 
ing a large number of persons united only by the identity 
of the object they have in view, entirely disappeared when 
the political activity of this Circle was enlarged. But they 
were calculated to influence the moral development of the 



i2 4 RE I 'OL UTIONAR V PROFILES. 

individual, and to form those noble dispositions and those 
steadfast hearts which were seen in CuprianofT, Ceruscin, 
Alexander Kornilova, SerdinkofT, and so many more, who 
in any other country would have been the honor and glory 
of the nation. With us, where are they ? Dead ; in 
prison ; fallen by their own hands ; entombed in the mines 
of Siberia, or crushed under the immense grief of having 
lost all — everything which they held most dear in life. 

It was among these surroundings, austere and affec- 
tionate, impressed with a rigorism almost monastic, and 
glowing with enthusiasm and devotion, that Sophia Perov- 
skaia passed the first three or four years of her youth, 
when the pure and delicate mind receives so readily every 
good impression ; when the heart beats so strongly for 
everything great and generous ; it was among these sur- 
roundings that her character was formed. 

Perovskaia was one of the most influential and 
esteemed members of the Circle, for her stoical severity 
towards herself, her indefatigable energy, and, above all, 
for her powerful capacity. Her clear and acute mind had 
that philosophical quality, so rare among women, not only 
of perfectly understanding a question, but of always seiz- 
ing it in its philosophical connection with all the questions 
dependent on it, or arising out of it. Hence arose a firm- 
ness of conviction which could not be shaken, either by 
sophisms or by the transient impressions of the moment, . 
and an extraordinary ability in every kind of discussion — • 
theoretical and practical. She was an admirable "deba- 
ter," if I may use the word. Always regarding a subject 
from every side, she had a great advantage over her oppon- 



SOPHIA PEROVSKAIA. I25 

ents, as ordinarily subjects are regarded by most people 
from one side alone, indicated by their dispositions or per- 
sonal inclinations. Sophia Perovskaia, although of the 
most ardent temperament, could elevate herself by the 
force of her intellect above the promptings of feeling, and 
saw things with eyes which were not confused by the halo 
of her own enthusiasm. She never exaggerated anything, 
and did not attribute to her activity and that of her friends 
greater importance than they possessed. She was always 
endeavoring, therefore, to enlarge it by finding fresh chan- 
nels and means of activity, and consequently became even 
an initiator of fresh undertakings. Thus, the transfer of 
the propagandism among the young, to one among the 
working men of the city, effected by the Circle of the 
Ciaikovzi in the; years 1871 and 1872, was in great part 
due to the initiative of Sophia Perovskaia. "When this 
change was accomplished, she was among the first to urge 
that from the towns it should pass to the country, clearly 
seeing that in Russia if a party is to have a future it must 
put itself in communication with the mass of the rural 
population. Afterwards, when she belonged to the Ter- 
rorist organization, she made every effort to enlarge the 
activity of her party, which seemed to her too exclusive. 

This perpetual craving however, arose in her from the 
great reasoning powers with which she was endowed, and 
not from romantic feeling, which generally springs from 
a too ardent imagination. Of such romantic feeling, which 
sometimes impels to great undertakings, but ordinarily 
causes life to be wasted in idle dreams, Sophia Perovskaia 
had not the slightest trace. She was too positive and 



126 X£ VOL V TIONAR V PROFILES. 

clear sighted to live upon chimeras, She was too ener- 
getic to remain idle. She took life as it is, endeavoring to 
do the utmost that could be done, at a given moment. In- 
ertia to her was the greatest of torments. 

For four years, however, she was compelled to endure 

it. 

II. 

On November 25, 1S73, Ferovskaia was arrested, to- 
gether with seme working men among whom she was carry- 
ing on the agitation in the Alexander Nevsky district. 
She was thrown into prison, but, in the absence of proofs 
against her, after a year's detention was provisionally re- 
leased on the bail of her father, and had to go into the 
Crimea, where her family possessed an estate. For three 
years Sophia remained there, without being able to do any- 
thing, as she was under strict surveillance, and without 
being able to escape, because she would have thereby com- 
promised all those who had been provisionally released 
instead of waiting their trial "of the 193" in which "al- 
most all the members of the society of the Ciaikovzi were 
implicated as well as Sophia Ferovskaia. 

Here it may not be out of place to notice a special inci- 
dent in connection with her first appearance in public, which 
affords an illustration of her character. 

The accused in this trial not wishing to be mere play- 
things in 'he hands of the government, which fixed the sen- 
tences before the proceedings commenced, resolved to 
make a solemn demonstration. But of what nature this de- 
monstration should be was not settled before the final day, 



SOPHIA PER O VSKA TA . i 2 -j 

Sophia Perovskaia being out on bail, went to the trial 
without knowing the designs of her friends, who were in 
prison; and was purposely brought before the court first, 
as it was thought she would be taken unawares, and that 
the influence of her example, might be turned to account. 
This hope, however, was completely frustrated. Sophia, 
seeing herself quite alone, declared, directly her first sur- 
prise was over, that she would take no part whatever in 
the trial, as she did not see those whose ideas she shared, 
and whose fate she wished to share. 

This was precisely what had been resolved upon at the 
same moment, in the cells of the prison. Sophia was ac- 
quitted, not released, however, as might have been expected, 
but consigned to the gendarmes, in accordance with a mere 
police order to be interned in one of the northern pro- 
vinces. This is how all political offenders in Russia who 
are acquitted by the tribunals are created. 

Henceforth, however, no moral obligation any longer 
weighed upon her. She resolved, therefore, to escape, and 
profiting by the first occasion which offered, she did es- 
cape, without being aided by any one, without even ap- 
prising her friends. Before any one, indeed, had heard of 
it, she returned to St. Petersburg, smiling and cheerful, 
as if nothing had happened, and related the story of her 
flight, so simple, innocent, and almost charming, that, 
among the terrible adventures of her life, it is like a rhodo- 
dendron blossoming among the wild precipices of the Swiss 
Diablerets. 



In 1S7S she again took an active part in the move*- 



1 2 3 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCIIES. 

ment. But when, after an absence of four years, she re 
turned to the field of battle, everything was changed there 
— men, tendencies, means. 

The Terrorism had made its first appearance. 

She supported this movement, as the only one to which 
owing to the conditions created by the Government, re- 
course could be had. It was, indeed, in this tremendous 
struggle that she displayed her eminent qualities in all 
their splendor. 

She very soon acquired in the Terrorist organization 
the same influence, and the same esteem, she had had in 
the Circle to Avhich she previously belonged. 

She was of a voracious energy. Indeed, she could 
do alone the work of many, She was really indefatigable. 
She carried on the agitation among the young, and was 
one of the most successful in it ; for, to the art of co win- 
cing,, she united that much more difficult, of inspiring 
enthusiasm and the sentiment of the highest duty, because 
she was full of it herself. Directly the opportunity offered? 
she carried on the agitation among the working men, who 
loved her for her simplicity and earnestness, which always 
please the people ; and she was one of the founders of the 
working-men's Terrorist Society, called rabociaia drughia, 
to which Timothy Micailoff and Rissakoff belonged. She 
was an organizer of the highest order. With her keen and 
penetrating mind, she could grasp the minutest details, upon 
which often depends the success or failure of the most im- 
portant undertakings. She displayed great ability in the 
preparatory labors that require so much foresight and self- 
command, as a word let slip inopportunely may ruin every- 



SOPHIA PEROVSKAIA 1 29 

thing. Not that it would be repeated to the police, for the 
secluded life led by the Nihilists renders such a thing almost 
impossible ; but by those almost inevitablcindiscretions, as, 
for instance, between husband and wife, or friend and 
friend, by which it sometimes happens that a secret, which 
has leaked out from the narrow circle of the organization 
through the thoughtlessness of some member, in a moment 
spreads all over the city, and is in every mouth. As for 
Sophia Perovskaia, she carried her reserve to such an ex- 
tent, that she could live for months together with her most 
intimate personal friend without that friend knowing anything 
whatever of what she was doing. 

From living so long in the revolutionary world, Perov- 
skaia acquired a great capacity for divining in others the 
qualities which render them adapted for one kind of duty 
rather than another, and could control men as few can 
control them. Not that she employed subterfuges ; she 
had no need of them. The authority she exercised was due 
to herself alone, to her firmness of character, to her su- 
premely persuasive language, and still more, perhaps, to the 
moral elevation and boundless devotion which breathed 
forth from her whole being. 

The force of her will was as powerful as that of her in- 
tellect. The terrible toil of perpetual conspiracy under the 
conditions existing in Russia ; that toil which exhausts 
and consumes the most robust temperaments, like an in- 
fernal fire ; for the implacable god of the Revolution claims 
as a holocaust not merely the life and the blood of its 
followers — would that it were so — but the very marrow of 
their bones and brain, their very inmost soul ; or otherwise 



1 3 o RE VOL UTIOXA R V PR FILES. 

rejects them, discards them, disdainfully, pitilessly ; this 
terrible toil, I say, could not shake the will of Sophia Perov- 
skaia. 

For eleven years she remained in the ranks, sharing 
in immense losses and reverses, and yet ever impelled to 
fresh attacks. She knew how to preserve intact the sacred 
spark. She did not wrap herself up in the gloomy and 
mournful mantle of rigid " duty." Notwithstanding her 
stoicism and apparent coldness, she remained, essentially, 
an inspired priestess ; for under her cuirass of polished 
steel, a woman's heart was always beating. Women, it must 
be confessed, are much more richly endowed with this 
divine flame than men. This is why the almost religious 
fervor of the Russian Revolutionary movement must in 
great part be attributed to them ; and while they take part 
in it, it will be invincible. 

Sophia Perovskaia was not merely an organizer ; she 
went to the front in person, and coveted the most danger- 
ous post. It was that, perhaps, which gave her this ir- 
resistible fascination. When fixing upon any one her 
scrutinizing regard, which seemed to penetrate into the 
very depths of the mind, she said, with her earnest look, 
"Let us go." Who could reply to her, " Not I" ? She went 
willingly, " happy," as she used to say. 

She took part in almost all the Terrorist enterprises, 
commencing with the attempt to liberate Voinaralsky in 
1878, and sometimes bore the heaviest burden of them, as 
in the Hartmann attempt, in which, as the mistress of the 
house, she had to face dangers, all the greater because un- 



SOPHIA PEROVSKAIA. 13 r 

foreseen, and in which, by her presence of mind and self- 
command, she several times succeeded in averting the 
imminent peril which hung over the entire undertaking. 

As to her resolution and coolness in action, no words 
sufficiently strong could perhaps be found to express them. 
It will suffice to say that, in the Hartmann attempt, the 
six or eight men engaged in it, who certainly were not with- 
out importance, specially entrusted Sophia Perovskaia 
with the duty of firing the deposit of nitroglycerine in the 
interior of the house, so as to blow into the air everything 
and everybody, in case the police came to arrest them. 
It was she, also, who was entrusted with the very delicate 
duty of watching for the arrival of the Imperial* train, in 
order to give the signal for the explosion at the exact mo- 
ment, and as is well known, it was not her fault that the 
attempt failed. 

I will not speak of the management of what took place 
on March 13, for it would be repeating what everybody 
knows. The Imperial Procurator, anxious to show how 
little power the Executive Committee possessed, said the 
best proof of this was that the direction of a matter of so 
much importance was entrusted to the feeble hands of a 
woman. The Committee evidently knew better, and Sophia 
Perovskaia clearly proved it. 

She was arrested a week after March 13, as she would 
not on any account quit the capital. She appeared before 
the court, tranquil and serious, without the slightest trace 
of parade or ostentation endeavoring neither to justify 
herself, nor to glorify herself ; simple and modest as she 



1 t )2 VOL UTIONA RY PR O FILES. 

had lived. Even her enemies were moved. In a very 
brief address she simply asked that she might not be separ- 
ated, as a woman, from her companions, but might share 
their fate. This request was granted. 

Six weary days the execution was postponed, although 
the legal term for appealing and petitioning is fixed at on- 
ly three. 

What was the cause of this incomprehensible delay ? 
What was being done to the condemned all this time ? 
No one knows. 

The most sinister rumors soon circulated throughout 
the capital. It was declared that the condemned, in ac- 
cordance 'with the Asiatically Jesuitical advice of Loris 
Melikoff, were subjected to torture to extract revelations 
from them ; not before but after the sentence, for then no 
one would hear their voices again. 

Were these idle rumors, or indiscreet revelations ? 

No one knows. 

Having no positive testimony we will not bring such an 
accusation, even against our enemies. There is one indis- 
putable fact, however, which contributed to give greater 
credence to these persistent rumors ; the voices of the 
condemned were never heard again by any one. The 
visits of relatives, which, by a pious custom, are allowed to 
all who are about to die, were obstinately forbidden, with 
what object, or for what reason, is not known. The Gov- 
ernment was even not ashamed to have recourse to un- 
worthy subterfuges in order to avert remonstrance. So- 
phia Perovskaia's mother, who adored her daughter, has- 
tened from the Crimea at the first announcement of the ar- 



SOPJIIA I f.lxO VSKAIA. 1 3 3 

rest. She saw Sophia for the last time, on the day of the 
verdict. During the live other days, under one pretext or 
another, she was always sent away. At last she was told 
to come in the morning of April 15, and that then she 
would see her daughter. 

She went ; but at the moment when she approached 
the prison the door was thrown wide open, and she saw 
her daughter, in truth — but upon the fatal cart. 

It was the mournful procession of the condemned to 
the place of execution. 

I will not narrate the horrible details of this execution. 
— " I have been present at a dozen executions in the East," 
says the correspondent of the " Kolnische Zeitung," "but I 
have never seen such a butchery {Schinderei)" 

All the condemned died like heroes. 

" Kibaeic and Geliaboff were very calm, Timothy Mi- 
cailoff was pale, but firm. Rissakoff was liver-colored. 
Sophia Perovskaia displayed extraordinary moral strength. 
Her cheeks even preserved their rosy color, while her face, 
always serious, without the slightest trace of parade, was 
full of true courage, and endless abnegation. Her look 
was calm and peaceful ; not the slightest sign of ostenta- 
tion could be discerned in it." 

So speaks, not a Nihilist, not even a Radical, but the 
correspondent of the " Kolnische Zeitung "(of April 16, 
1 881), who cannot be suspected of excessive sympathy with 
the Nihilists. 

At a quarter past nine Sophia Perovskaia was a corpse. 



The above had already gone to press, when I received, 




134 RE V0L UTIONAR Y PROFILES. 

from her friends, the copy of a letter from Sophia Perovskaia 
to her mother, written only a few days before the trial. 
The translation which follows will not, I think, be unaccept- 
able to my readers. I am far indeed, however, from flat- 
tering myself that I have preserved the warm breath of 
tenderness and affection, the indescribable charm, which 
render it so touching in the Russian language. 

Being under no delusion as to the sentence and fate 
which awaited her, Sophia endeavored to gently prepare 
her mother for the terrible news, and to console her before- 
hand as far as possible. 

" My dear, adored Mamma, — The thought of you op 
presses and torments me always. My darling, I implore 
you to be calm, and not to grieve for me ; for my fate does 
not afflict me in the least, and I shall meet it with com- 
plete tranquillity, for I have long expected it, and known 
that sooner or later it must come. And I assure you, dear 
mamma, that my fate is not such a very mournful one. I 
have lived as my convictions dictated, and it would have 
been imposible for me to have acted otherwise. I await 
my fate, therefore, with a tranquil conscience, whatever it 
may be. The only thing which oppresses me is the thought 
of your grief, oh, my adored mother ! It is that which 
rends my heart ; and what would I not give to be able to 
alleviate it ? My dear, dear mother, remember that you 
have still a large family, so many grown-up, and so many 
little ones, all of whom have need of you, have need of 
your great moral strength. The thought that I have been 
unable to raise myself to your moral height has always 
grieved me to the heart. Whenever, however, I felt my- 



SOPHIA PEROVSKAIA. 135 

self wavering, it was always the thought of you which sus- 
tained me. I will not speak to you of my devotion to you ; 
you know that from my infancy you were always the object 
of my deepest and fondest love. Anxiety for you was the 
greatest of my sufferings. I hope that you will be calm, 
that you will pardon me the grief I have caused you, and 
not blame me too much ; your reproof is the only one that 
would grieve my heart. 

" In fancy I kiss your hand again and again, and on 
my knees I implore you not to be angry with me. 

" Remember me most affectionately to all my relatives. 

" And I have a little commission for you, my dear 
mamma. Buy me some cuffs and collars ; the collars ra- 
ther narrow, and the cuffs with buttons, for studs are not 
allowed to be worn here. Before appearing at the trial, I 
must mend my dress a little, for it has become much worn 
here. Good-by till we meet again, my dear mother. Once 
more, I implore you not to grieve, and not to afflict your- 
self for me. My fate is not such a sad one after all, and 
you must not grieve about it. 

" Your own Sophia. 
"March 22 {April 3) i88i. r 



i 



REVOLUTIONARY SKETCHES. 



THE MOSCOW ATTEMPT. 



I. 

A BAND OF HERMITS. 

Upon the outskirts of the old capital of Russia, just 
where that half Asiatic city, immense as the antique Baby- 
lon or Nineveh, is at last lost in the distance, and its houses, 
becoming fewer, are scattered among the market gardens 
and fields, and the immense uncultivated plains which sur- 
round it on all sides, as the sea surrounds an islet ; on these 
outskirts is a little cottage, one story high, old, grimy with 
age, and half in ruins. 

Although in a capital, this poor dwelling is not out of 
harmony with the district. The other houses round about 
have the same mean and rough aspect ; and all this part 
of the immense city resembles a little village lost in the plains 
of Russia, rather than a district of one of the largest capi- 
tals in Europe. In summer, grass grows in the streets, so 
high that a cavalry regiment might exercise there ; and 
in the rainy autumn, these street are full of puddles and 
miniature lakes, in which the ducks and geese swim 
about. 

There is no movement. From time to time a passer- 
by is seen, and if he does not belong to the district the 



REVOLUTIONARY SKETCHES. 



boys stare at him until he is out of sight. If by chance 
a carriage, or a hired vehicle, arrives in these parts, all 
the shutters, green, red, and blue, are hurriedly opened, 
and girls and women peep forth, curious to see such an ex- 
traordinary sight. 

All the inhabitants of this tranquil district know each 
other, for they were born there, and have grown old 
there. They are simple, patriarchal people, who seem in 
no way to belong to modern civilization. They live ex- 
actly as their fathers lived two or three centuries ago. 
Almost all belong to the old religious sects which were 
formed in the seventeenth century, when the Patriarch 
Nikon, a gifted but despotic and implacable man, wished 
to correct various orthographical errors in the old books. 
Refusing to recognize the corrections of Nikon which he 
strove to impose by force upon the zealots of the ancient 
rite, these sects even rejected all the ordinances of the 
State which supported the ferocious Patriarch, especially 
after the reforms of Peter the Great, effected according to 
the example of the infidel " Germans." They even rejected 
the European dress, which the reforming Czar wanted to 
impose upon them by violence. 

Cruelly persecuted for a couple of centuries, these sects 
spread, nothwithstanding, throughout all Russia among the 
poorer classes, and now number at least ten millions of follow- 
ers. Their principal centre is the old capital, abandoned by 
the Emperors, like the old religion. The Preobragenskoie and 
Rogoscoe districts, which we are describing, received their 
name from the two cemeteries where so many of the mar- 
tyrs of these sects are buried ; they are their real capital, 



THE MOSCOW ATTEMPT. I4 ! 

where their priests and bishops reside clandestinely, and 
where their oecumenical councils are held. 

It is true, the corruption of the age is beginning to invade 
even these last retreats of the ancient faith. When on festival 
evenings the people go forth and sit, according to Eastern 
custom, outside their houses, chatting with their neighbors, 
it is no unusual thing to see some lively young man who 
works in one of the city manufactories playing the " har- 
monica" instead of the ancient guitar, and wearing a jacket 
with bright buttons, instead of the ancient straight coat, be- 
sides boots with heels — which things are German abomina- 
tions. It is even related that some of them secretly 
smoke tobacco, which is a heinous offence, as it makes a 
man resemble not God, but the Devil in person, who in the 
lives of the saints is always represented with filthy smoke 
issuing from his mouth. 

The old folks mournfully shake their heads and say that 
the end of the world is at hand, as the ancient devotion is 
dying out. 

The occupants of the house which we have above referred 
to do not belong, however, to the original inhabitants of 
this patriarchal district. They have newly come to reside 
there. Notwithstanding this, they are not unfavorably re- 
garded in the neighborhood, for they are good, simple, 
God-fearing people. The family consists of husband and 
wife. They are expecting every moment the arrival of 
their old parents. 

Although the wife seems very young, she is an excellent 
housewife ; the husband, an artisan of Saratoff, is aoout 
thirty-two or thirty-three, but is very grave for his age. 



1 42 RE VOL I 'TIOXAR I * SKL 7TI/RS. 

Evidently he, also, is a member of the sect. He does not 
smoke tobacco, he does not shave — which is also con- 
sidered a very grave transgression, as it takes from a man 
the likeness of God, in whose image, as is well known, he 
was created. True, the new-comer wears boots with heels, 
and a jacket. But this perhaps is " from fear of the Jews," 
or perhaps because he belongs to another sect, which allows 
these things and then no censure attaches to him, for the 
various sects display perfect tolerance towards each other. 

There was an important indication which assisted in 
changing this friendly suspicion into a certainty. 

The family was two in number. There could be no doubt, 
how r ever, that the house was occupied by several persons ; 
provisions to such an extent were purchased, that, however 
hearty their appetites, they could not consume them alone. 
Then, too, some of the old folks during their sleepless 
nights had heard the creaking of the gate, and even the 
sound of vehicles, evidently bringing people from a distance. 
" Who could they be but brethren ? " the old folks said to 
each other in confidence. Certainly no one would have 
gone and breathed a word of this to their common enemy 
the policeman, standing there at the corner of the street. No 
one would have dreamed of it. 

These pious folks were not mistaken. The house was 
in fact occupied by an entire band of hermits — miners by 
trade. The vehicles which came by night brought dyna- 
mite, and the necessary instruments for its explosion. 

It was the Moscow mine 



THE MOSCOW ATTEMPT. 



J 43 



II. 

THE MINE. 

The excavation of the Moscow mine, by which the Im- 
perial train was to be blown up, commenced about the 
middle of September, and finished two months afterwards, 
was part of the vast plan of a triple attempt of the same 
kind, which was to be carried out during the journey of the 
Emperor from the Crimea to St. Petersburg, without men- 
tioning three others which belonged to about the same time. 

The mines under the railway line were placed at three 
different points ; near Moscow, near Alexandrovsk, and 
near Odessa. 

It was believed, therefore, that the blow could not 
possibly fail. 

Owing, however, to a combination of various circum- 
stances, this was precisely what happened. The prepara- 
tions upon the Odessa railway, together with those upon 
the Italianskaia, recently discovered, for blowing up the 
Imperial carriage while passing through the streets of the 
city, had to be abandoned, owing to a change in the itin- 
erary of the Emperor. In that of Alexandrovsk organized 
by Geliaboff andOkladsky, the mine, owing to some defect 
of the capsule, did not explode, although the battery was 
closed at the right moment, and thus the Imperial train 
passed uninjured over a precipice, to the bottom of which 
it would infallibly have rolled at the slightest shock. The 



1 44 RE VOL UTTONA R Y SKE TCHES. 

two previous attempts failed in the same manner ; that of 
blowing up the stone bridge in St. Petersburg organized 
by the same Geliaboff, and Tetiorka, as the latter did not 
keep his appointment ; and that of blowing up the Imperial 
steamer near Nicolaieff, organized by Logodenko, the sole 
attempt discovered by the police. By the merest chance 
they paid a domiciliary visit to the very apartment in which 
the electric wires were placed. 

In Moscow alone, the Terrorists were fortunate enough 
to make at least an attempt. Yet it was precisely there 
that the undertaking seemed most difficult, and the prob- 
abilities of success much less, owing especially to the 
cyclopean labor, which required many men, whom it was 
difficult to keep concealed, and to the vicinity of the capital, 
where the surveillance was so strict. 

I will not relate what is already known from the news- 
papers of that date. I simply propose to draw attention 
to two circumstances, as they were related to me by a friend 
who took part in the undertaking, and for whose veracity I 
can unhesitatingly answer. 

The first relates to the organization, the second to the 
execution of the project. Both are very characteristic, not 
only of this attempt, but of all the undertakings of the 
Terrorists ; I mean the extreme simplicity, which is in such 
flagrant contradiction with all the preconceived ideas upon 
Nihilism, and the means and methods of execution, at- 
tributed to it. 

It is generally believed that the Nihilists have enor- 
mous means at their disposition. This is a great error, and 
the Moscow attempt is the best proof of it. The expenses 



THE MOSCOW ATTEMPT. 

of the struggle are so immense, that the Nihilists are always 
hunting about for a few roubles. They are thus compelled 
to do everything in the most economical manner, often at 
the risk of their lives. 

As a matter of fact, the Egyptian labors of the Mos- 
cow mine, and of the two other railway attempts organized 
for the same month of November, cost in all the pitiful sum 
of from 3,000/. to 4,000/., including travelling expenses. 
The other undertakings, of less extent, cost still less. 
Thus the attempt to liberate one of the prisoners condemned 
at the trial " of the 193 " while he was being taken from 
St. Petersburg to the central prison of Karkoff, was organ- 
ized upon a large scale ; five horses, a vehicle, and a supply 
of arms had to be bought, and the expenses paid of a large 
body of sentinels, placed in St. Petersburg, Moscow, Kursk, 
and Karkoff to watch every movement of the police. Yet 
this attempt, according to the detailed accounts sent in to 
the organization by those who were entrusted with it, cost 
only 4,500 roubles, and some odd money, or about 600/. 

Spending so little, the Terrorists are often compelled 
to fill up, so to speak, with their own flesh and blood, the 
cracks in the edifice, caused by undue economy of wood. 
Thus, in the Moscow attempt, from want of money a loan 
had to be contracted, upon the mortgage of the very house 
in which the mine was being made. A survey had then to 
be made by an expert, which is always done in the presence 
of the police, and this when the mine was already almost 
finished. Upon the danger of such a survey I need not 
insist. The work itself was carried out at the least possible 
expense. 



1 46 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

Thus, the instrument for boring was not obtained till 
towards the last, when, owing to their excessive toil, the 
miners were absolutely exhausted. At first the work was 
done by hand, and although, owing to the wet weather, the 
passage was always full of water, which dripped from the 
top and collected at the bottom, so that they had to work 
drenched in freezing water, standing in it up to their knees, 
and even to lie down in the mud, the miners had no water- 
proof clothing, such as divers wear, which would have pre- 
served them from so much suffering in this horrible Dan- 
tean hole. 

In order to keep the passage in a right direction, means 
and instruments were employed, which a surveyor would 
have scornfully rejected. Thus no astrolabe was bought, 
not even a compass with a quadrant, but a mere pocket 
compass only used for drawing up militar}^ plans. 

By means of this compass, the cardinal points were 
found, with more or less precision, and to indicate them 
inside the passage, little pieces of iron were used attached 
by a wire along the beams. 

Notwithstanding all this, when the mine was examined, 
after the explosion, by the engineers, they found that it was 
extremely well made. Diligence made up for the defects of 
the implement of labor,-and good spirits sustained strength. 

It would be a grave error to picture this terrible band 
invested with the traditional attributes of the theatrical 
conspirator. All the meetings of the Nihilists are distin- 
guished by their simplicity, and by the complete absence 
of that parade and ostentation so thoroughly opposed to 



THE MOSCOW ATTEMPT. 147 

the Russian character, the tendency of which is towards 
the humorous. 

In graver matters in which life or lives have to be 
risked, or even undoubtedly lost, everything is settled 
among us in two words. There is no display of oratorical 
art. There is no passionate harangue, for it would merely 
cause a smile, as being completely out of place. The 
public is not admitted to our discussions. Everything is 
done by people who thoroughly know each other, and who 
perfectly understand what there is to do. 

Why, therefore, make a display of what is understood 
of itself? Rarely, indeed, does some phrase or word 
vibrate, involuntarily, with a deeper tone, or some flash of 
enthusiasm shine forth in a glance. If some one not un- 
derstanding our language had been present at a meeting 
of the Terrorists, in which the most terrible schemes were 
planned, he would have taken it for a gathering of peace- 
ful folks, speaking calmly and simply upon some harmless 
matter. 

I say this for the guidance of the worthy novelists who 
have had the goodness to represent types of Nihilist life. 
All make them melodramatic heroes, who, among us, in- 
stead of exciting the enthusiasm attributed to them, would 
have produced precisely the opposite effect ; for they 
would undoubtedly have arosed suspicions of their firmness 
by too much eloquence. We have all heard of the dog 
whose bark is worse than his bite. 

The Moscow mine may serve as an excellent illustration 
of what I am saying. As to the danger which hung over 
all who were in the fatal house, it certainly could neither be 



1 48 RE- VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

exaggerated nor forgotten. According to the Russian laws, 
in any attempt against the life of the Emperor, all the ac- 
complices, without any distinction of degree, including the 
non-informers, are punished with death. This death was 
hovering at every moment, night and day, over the heads 
of the miners, and from time to time they felt the cold flap- 
ping of its sombre wings and knew that it was ready to 
seize them. 

Some days before the Emperor passed, the police went 
to this house on some frivolous pretext. The miners were 
immediately warned. The police saw only the legitimate 
occupants of the house, and everything was arranged in 
such a manner as to excite not the least suspicion, Yet 
the slightest embarrassment, the slightest trembling of the 
voice, might have caused mistrust, and led to a stricter 
search, by which everything would have been discovered. 

At other times it was to be feared that some suspicions 
would arise in the minds of prying neighbors (as may be 
read in the report of the sixteen), suspicions which were so 
well averted by Sophia Perovskaia. 

To show that the miners were under no illusion as to 
the fate which awaited them, it will be sufficient to recall 
the fact of the bottle of nitro-glycerine placed inside the 
room. 

Notwithstanding all this, unflagging good spirits pre- 
vailed in the household throughout the whole period of the 
works. At dinner time, when all met, there was chatting 
and joking as though nothing were at stake, and it was 
then that Sophia Perovskaia, at the very moment when she 
had in her pocket a loaded revolver intended to blow up 



THE MOSUO IV A TTE .VP T. T 4 g 

everything and everybody into the air, most frequently 
delighted the company with her silver laugh. One of the 
miners even composed some comic verses, in which was 
related in burlesque style the various vicissitudes and 
incidents of the mining work. 



TWO ESCAPES. 



I. 

ONe evening in the middle of January, 1880 — I forget 
the exact day — some exiles met in Geneva to take a cup of 
tea at the house of one of their number, M. G. 

It was a somewhat numerous party, six or seven persons 
perhaps, and what is much rarer in the gatherings of the 
exiles, it was rather a lively one. Our charming hostess 
was seated at the piano, which she played with much taste 
and feeling, and she sang to us several Ukrainian songs. 
We were all somewhat excited by the music. We joked 
and laughed. The principal subject of our conversation 
was the escape from Siberia of one of our friends, news of 
which had reached us that very day. 

All the particulars of the escape then known having 
been related, and all the observations and conjectures with 
regard to it having been made, a moment of silence follow- 
ed ; of that dead, insupportable silence, when the Russians 
say, "A fool has been born" or " The angel of silence is 
hovering over us," according to their respective tastes. 

Under the influence of this conversation respecting the 
escape of our friends, the idea came into my mind to pro- 
pose to the ceirpany. which in-: 1 1 1 K^potldne and Bo- 



TWO ESCAPES. 151 

kanovski, to relate to each other the particulars of their own 
escapes, as almost every one had succeeded in escaping. 

It was owing to this proposal, which met with general 
approval, that I am able to write this sketch. 

Krapotkine parried the proposal, saying that he had 
been compelled to relate the particulars of his escape 
over and over again, until he was quite sick of the subject. 
He was obliged, however, to yield to the importunity of 
the company. 

" The firm determination to escape at all hazards," he 
began, " never left me from the first day of my arrest. 
But if there- is anything impossible in the world, it is to 
escape from the fortress of St. Peter and St. Paul. I drew 
up -plans, or rather, indulged in wild fancies, as I could 
not but perceive that they were only vain dreams." 

After this prelude, Krapotkine related how he was 
transferred to the Nicholas Hospital, how he induced those 
in charge of him always to believe him in extremis, etc. I 
will not repeat all this, for I have already spoken of it in 
his biography. I pass at once to the main facts. 

" The doctor ordered me daily exercise, and about one 
o'clock I was taken into the large courtyard of the Hos- 
pital. A sentinel, musket in hand, was always by my side. 

" I began to take close note of everything, so as to 
draw up my plans. 

" The courtyard was large. The gate, ordinarily shut, 
was then open ; for at that period of the year (it was July) 
the Hospital was taking in its supplies of wood for the 
winter. As this, however, would last only a few weeks. 



152 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

no sentinel had been placed at the gate. It was a great 
advantage. 

" I walked up and down at the bottom of the court- 
yard, exactly opposite the gate. The sentinel was always 
near, between me and the gate. As, however, I walked 
more slowly than a tortoise, which, as is well known, wear- 
ies a vigorous man more than he would be wearied by 
leaps and bounds, the soldier had recourse to the follow- 
ing stratagem : he followed a line parallel to mine, but 
five paces nearer the gate. He was thus able to make 
his walk ten paces longer than mine, for at each extremity 
of his line he was always at the same distance from the 
gate, as I was at the extremity of my line. 

" This calculation, which the sentinel evidently made 
with his eye, was absolutely correct theoretically. I, how- 
ever, had thought, that if once we both began to run, the 
soldier, by a natural instinct, would endeavor to seize me 
as quickly as possible, and would therefore rush upon me, 
instead of running directly to the gate to cut off my re- 
treat. He would thus describe two sides of the triangle, 
of which I should describe the third alone.* Upon this 
point, thus, I had an advantage. I might hope to reach 
the gate before the sentinel, running at the same speed. I 
hoped, however, to run faster, but was not certain of it, 
being much weakened by illness. 

" If a vehicle were waiting at the gate for me, so that 
I might easily jump into it, I said to myself I should have 
a good crmnce of escaping. 

* I preserve the mode of explanation characteristic of a mathe- 
matiecian, which impressed me when I heard it. 



TWO ESCAPES. 153 

" When I was about to send a letter to my friends con- 
taining the outlines of my plan, I received another from 
them on the same subject. I began a correspondence. 
I need not relate the various plans and projects proposed 
and abandoned ; there were so many. Several questions 
had to be settled ; whether my friends should enter the 
courtyard as they proposed, and engage in some way or 
other the attention of the sentinel ; whether the vehicle 
should await me at the gate, or at the corner of the hos- 
pital, where it would not be so much in sight ; whether 
one of our party should post himself there, or the driver 
should remain alone. 

" I proposed the most simple and natural plan, which was 
finally adopted. No one should enter the courtyard. The 
vehicle should await me at the gate, because I felt too 
weak to run as far as the corner. An intimate friend pro- 
post i to post himself there to assist me, if necessary, in 
getting in more quickly, and especially in dressing me 
directly afterwards, as I should be compelled to escape 
with scarcely anything on except my trousers and shirt. 

" All we had to cover us in the hospital was an invalid's 
dressing-gown. It was so large, so inconvenient, and so 
long, that in walking I was obliged to carry my train up- 
on my arm. To run in such a garb was absolutely impos- 
sible. It must be thrown off at all hazards, before I could 
take to my heels. But this must be done with the rapidi- 
ty of lightning, for a single moment lost might ruin all. 
For many days in succession I practised this performance 
in my cell. I found that, to do it with the utmost possible 
celerity, the operation must be divided into three elemen- 



1 5 4 RE V0L UTIONAR Y SKE TCHE$. 

tary movements, like the musketry exercise of soldiers, — 
one, two, three. 

" The greatest difficulty remained ; the selection of 
the moment. This depended upon the condition of the 
streets though which we had to pass. A string of wood 
carts, a detachment of passing soldiers, a mounted Cos- 
sack, might upset the attempt, especially as the streets 
through which we had to pass were very narrow and wind- 
ing. They must therefore be watched, and I must be in- 
formed when they were free from all obstacles. For this 
purpose sentinels had to be placed at four different points. 
The fifth sentinel, receiving information from the four 
others, had to give me the decisive signal at the proper 
moment. The signal was to be an air-ball, which would 
ascend at a given spot behind the high wall of the court- 
yard in which I took exercise. 

" I had also proposed to place a sixth sentinel at the 
corner of a lane a little beyond, because, according to my 
calculations, this very narrow lane was so long, that a 
vehicle being in it at the moment of our departure would 
infallibly have stopped our progress. It could not reach 
the end while we were passing from the gate of the hospital 
to the entrance of this lane. As men were few, however, 
we did without this sixth sentinel. 

" On the day fixed I went to take my exercise, full of hope 
and excitement. I looked again and again towards that 
part of the wall where the red air-ball was to ascend. No- 
thing was to be seen. My time was drawing to an end ; 
still nothing. It ended, and with it my hopes. With the 
impressionable imagination of a prisoner, I gave way to the 



TWO ESCAPES 155 

gloomiest conjectures. T felt convinced that everything 
had broken down. 

" Nothing much, however, had happened. By a singular 
chance, a red air-ball could not be found anywhere in the 
Gostini Dvor, or in any of the toy-shops, though a whole 
morning had been spent in looking for one. Only white 
and blue balls could be had, which my friends would not 
take, and with good reason ; for no change whatever, however 
insignificant it may appear, is ever permitted in signals. 
They hurriedly purchased a red india-rubber ball in a gutta- 
percha shop, and filled it with gas of their own manufacture. 
But the ball turned out so badly, that at the proper moment 
when the sentinel let go the string, instead of rising high 
into the air it went up only a few yards and fell to the 
ground before reaching the top of the courtyard wall. The 
sentirel frenziedly endeavored to throw it up with his 
hands, but this was even less successful. 

"To this fortuitous circumstance I owed many hours 
of torture, and, at the same time, my safety ; for at the very 
moment when the ball was sent up into the air, a long 
string of wood carts entered the lane of which I have spoken 
where no sentinel had been placed. They would infallibly 
have stopped our progress, and all would have been lost. 

"Another interval followed for the necessary corre- 
spondence in order to arrange the modifications, which 
were indispensable. Another sentinel was posted, naturally, 
at the entrance of the lane. But this required a modifica- 
tion of the entire plan, as there were no means of combin- 
ing the signals of all the five sentinels outside the wall o* 
the courtyard so as to give me the decisive signal. Either 



1 5 6 A£ VOL UTIONA R Y SKE TCHES. 

additional sentinels would have to be introduced, for the 
mere transmission of the signals, or the decisive signal 
would have to be changed. 

" The latter expedient was chosen. 

44 One of our party hired a room on .the third story 
directly opposite the hospital. From the window could be 
seen not only all the five sentinels, but the courtyard also, 
where I took exercise. The signal was to be given to me 
by means of a violin which my friend was to play when- 
ever all the signals were favorable, and the music was to 
cease when any of them became unfavorable. This mode 
also presented the great advantage of indicating to me 
repeatedly the favorable time for flight, leaving to me the 
selection of the proper moment. 

" The first day, when everything was ready and the 
vehicle already awaited me at the gate, it was I who caused 
my friends some cruel moments ; . my illness increased, 
and I felt so weak that I did not dare to make the attempt. 
I did not even go down, therefore, into the courtyard, and 
they thought that the suspicions of the police had been 
aroused, and that I was no longer to be allowed to take ex- 
ercise. 

" I recovered in two days andjresolved to profit by the 
interval which my illness had given me. 

" I prepared everything ; the shoes, the dressing-gown, 
which required a little ripping-up in order to be thrown off 
more quickly — eve rythi n g. 

" I went to take my exercise. - No sooner had I entered 
the courtyard than I heard the violin. The music lasted 
for five minutes, but I did not care to profit by it immediate- 



TWO ESCAPES. 157 

ly, for at first the surveillance instinctively is always some- 
what greater. But lo ! the violin stopped. Two minutes 
afterwards some carts with wood entered the courtyard. 
The violin recommenced. 

" This time I was determined to turn it to account. I 
looked at the sentinel ; he was walking along his usual 
line, some five paces distant, between me and the gate. I 
looked at his musket. It was loaded ; I knew it. Would 
he fire or not ? Probably not, because I, being so near, 
he would rather wish to seize hold of me. His bayonet 
was more dangerous, in case, during this long run, my 
strength failed me. I had, however, already made my 
calculations even upon this point. If I remained in prison 
I was certain to die. " Now or never," I said to myself- 
I seized my dressing-gown .... One ! . . . . 

" "Rut lo ! the violin ceased. 

" I felt as though I should drop. 

"A moment afterwards, however, the music recom- 
menced ; a patrol at that very moment had passed through 
one of the lanes. 

" Directly the sentinel reached the extremity of his 
line, without a moment's pause I threw off my dressing- 
gown with three well-practised movements, and — I was off 
like an arrow. The sentinel, with a howl, rushed at me 
to seize me, instead of running straight to the gate to pre- 
vent my escape, and thus described his two sides of the 
triangle, as I foresaw. I was so weak, however, that those 
who saw our desperate race from above said that the soldier 
was within three paces of me, and that his bayonet, which he 
thrust forward, was within an ace oftouching me. This, 



! 5 8 R£ I "OL UTIONA R Y SKE TCHES. 

however I did not see. I only heard his howling and that of 
the carters who were unloading the wood at the bottom of 
the courtyard. 

On reaching the gate I saw a vehicle ; but for a mo- 
ment I was in doubt whether it was ours, for I could not 
recognize my friend in the officer who was on the alert in 
the street. To make him turn round I clapped my hand, 
to the surprise of the friends who were observing this 
scene. It was taken by them as a sign of joy. The officer 
turned round. I recognized him, and in less time than it 
takes to say these words I was inside the vehicle, which 
went off like a flash of lightning, and I was wrapped in a 
military cloak which my friend had in readiness, as well 
as an officer's cap. 

" At the hospital, as we afterwards learnt, an incredi- 
ble uproar followed. The officer of the guard hastened 
out with his soldiers, at the shouts of the sentinel. Com- 
pletely losing his head, he tore his hair, and exclaimed : 

" ' I am ruined ! I am ruined ! Run after him. 
Follow him. Follow him ! ' 

" He was incapable, however, of giving any orders. 
One of our party, the signal man, the very one who played 
the violin, hastily descending into the street, and approach- 
ing the officer, began to exhibit the utmost compassion for 
the state he was in, actually asking him what had hap- 
pened, who had escaped, how, when, where, etc. The 
frenzied officer tried to reply to him, and thus lost pre- 
cious time. 

" An old woman gave a terrible piece of advice. 

" ' They will go a roundabout way,' she said, ' and 



TWO ESCAPES. ,59 

then make straight for the Nevski. There can't be a 
doubt of it. Take out the horses from these omnibuses 
[there were some at the hospital gate], and cut off their 
escape. It is the simplest thing possible.' 

" This was exactly the course we were adopting, but 
the old crone's advice was not followed.' 



II. 

When Krapotkine had finished his narrative, the turn 
came of John Bokanovski,* surnamed the Cossack, be- 
cause,, being a native of the Ukraine, he resembled the 
ancient Cossacks of that country, by his courage, his im- 
perturbable coolness, and his taciturnity. 

Everyone turned towards him. He took his little 
wooden pipe from his mouth, and said : " Why, there's 
nothing to relate. He came, took us, and we went out ; 
that's all." 

" No, no ! " exclaimed those present. " Relate it all, 
from beginning to end." 

" Well, then, when the day fixed arrived, he came with 
the keys of our cells — " 

" No, no," they broke in again. " Let us have it all. 
Relate everything from the commencement." 

The Cossack, seeing that every way of escape was 

closed against him, slowly filled his pipe with the air of a 

man preparing for a long journey, lit it, tried it to see if 

it drew properly, and began his narrative, which contained 

* He escaped from the Kieff prison in the summer of 1S78, with 
Leo Deuc and Jacob Stefanovic. (See the chapter upon the latter). 



1 6 o RE VOL (JTIONAR Y SICE TCHES. 

more words perhaps than the Cossack would ordinarily 
pronounce in three months at least. 

" Michael came to the prison about two months before 
our flight. It was a very long and difficult business to get 
him in. At last he succeeded in being received, with a 
false passport of a rustic named Fomenko, first as a mere 
odd-man, and afterwards as a warder. 

" In a short time, by his diligence in the performance 
of his duties, and his unexceptionable conduct, he suc- 
ceeded in gaining the favor of all his superiors. A month 
afterwards, he was promoted to the rank of the head 
warder in one of the corridors of the prisoners confined 
for ordinary offences. 

" In order to give the Governor of the prison a splen-. 
did proof of his excellent moral qualities, Michael, acting 
on the advice of Stefanovic, went one day to play the spy 
upon him, while the latter was writing, expressly for the 
purpose in his cell, a note of no importance whatever, so 
as to be taken in flagrante delicto. 

" The Governor would not, however, take advantage 
of this denunciation. 

" It should be stated that in the prison at Kieff, the 
position of the political prisoners was quite exceptionable 
at that time. The Terrorism which at the commencement 
struck at the secondary officials, produced such a panic 
fear at Kiaff that every one, from the Procurator to the 
Governor of the prison, vied with the rest in paying court 
for they all feared they would be killed at our first signal. 
When the Governor learned that it was that very Stefano- 
vic, the most feared of all, who was writing, he said, " Let 



TWO ESCAPES 

him write," and did nothing more. From that, however, 
Michael had gained his heart. 

" In order to make himself agreeable to us, the political 
prisoners, the Governor had appointed as our head warder, 
a certain Nikita, an excellent man, as good as gold. It 
was essential, however, to get rid of him at all hazards, as, 
on his post becoming vacant, it would most probably be 
given to Michael. 

"This, however, was no easy matter. The worthy 
man had done nothing whatever to us, so we audaciously 
invented offences which he had not even thought of com- 
* mitting, in order that we might complain to the Governor, 
who censured him, reprimanded him, and threatened him, 
although he was not in the least to blame. But the hon- 
est fellow, instead of growing angiy with us, and commit- 
ting, as we hoped, some imprudent act, bore all quite 
quietly, repeating : — 

" 'Jesus Christ suffered. I also will suffer.' 

"We were in despair. At last Valerian Ossinsky, who 
was organizing our escape outside, luckily thought of go- 
ing to the tavern which Nikita frequented, and having 
made his acquaintance there, as though by accident, said 
he was in want of a book-keeper for a sugar refinery in 
the country. The conditions were very advantageous, 
and Nikita swallowed the bait. Having received his 
travelling expenses, and a month's pay in advance, Nikita 
resigned his situation in the prison, as he had to set out 
immediately. Then came various delays, and then others, 
until our escape having been effected, his passport was 
sent to him, and a note in which he was told that nothing 



lQ 2 RE VOL UTJONAR \ r SKE TCHES. 

more was wanted of him, and that he would have no diffi- 
culty in guessing the reason. 

" His post in the prison being vacant, the governor 
went to Stefanovic and Deuc, to speak in a friendly 
manner with them, respecting the appointment of his 
successor. 

" ' Don't you think that Fomenko [Michael] would be a 
very good man ? ' 

" Stefanovic make a grimace, and reflected. 
" 'A spy, it seems.' 

" ' No, no. He is an excellent fellow.' The Governor 
defended him. 

" Michael was appointed head warder in the corridor 
of the political prisoners. 

" The most important move was made ; but this was 
not all. He might open the doors of cells, but how were 
four of us to pass out of a prison under military guard ? 

" Meanwhile not a minute of time was to be lost. 
Michael's position was terribly dangerous. The prison 
was crammed with political offenders of all kinds, from 
mere lads, confined there on suspicion, to Revolutionists 
seriously compromised. There were prisoners of every rank, 
and owing to his past activity, Michael was known and 
recognized by many. No denunciation was to be feared ; 
for Michael, having been for many years " illegal" kept 
up no direct intercourse except with those who could be 
trusted. Who, however, could guarantee him against in- 
nocent indiscretions especially in such a ticklish matter as 
this? 

" We were upon tenter-hooks. 



TWO ESCAPES. 163 

" We resolved to take advantage at the earliest possible 
opportunity, of the favorable position in which we were 
placed by Michael's appointment. No sooner was he 
thoroughly established in his new office, than we fixed the 
night for our escape. 

" The most natural mode of passing out, was that of 
disguising ourselves as sentinels who, having finished 
their turn of duty, were leaving to return to their barracks. 
Michael prepared soldiers' uniforms for two of us, but two 
others had to remain in civilian dress. For the whole 
four of us there was only one sword, but we determined 
not to wait for more. 

" On the evening of the day fixed, Michael brought us 
the military uniforms. We disguised ourselves and then 
arranged the counterpanes of our beds in such a manner, 
that in the morning it would appear as though we were 
asleep. 

" At midnight Michael came to open the doors of our 
cells. But here an unforeseen obstacle arose. The 
warder on duty, who had to watch all night, came into our 
corridor at that very moment, and showed not the slight- 
est eagerness to leave it. 

" Stefanovic thereupon let a book with loose, leaves 
fall, as though by accident, into the garden. There the 
leaves were scattered about on the ground, and Stefanovic, 
turning to Michael, begged him to fetch them at once. 
Michael sent the warder to pick them up, and take them to 
the office. While the latter was thus occupied, we noiselessly 
left our cells, and proceeded towards the entrance. 

" When we had passed through the corridor, a terrible 



1 64 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

occurrence happened at the end. The rope of the alarm- 
bell was dangling there. Groping against the wall in 
utter darkness, I stumbled against something. I felt my. 
self slipping, instinctively stretched out my hands, felt 
something touch my fingers, and caught hold of it to avoid 
falling. On the instant, a loud sound boomed throughout 
the prison. I had caught hold of the bell-rope. The 
horror, the shame, the absurdity of our unfortunate accident, 
flashed upon me like lightning. We thought all was lost. 
Already the noise and the voices of the soldiers on guard, 
who were hastily mustering, were heard. Michael, how- 
ever, did not lose his coolness. He told us to hide our- 
selves in various corners, and ran to the guard, saying 
that it was he who had rung the bell by accident. All 
became quiet again. But then another perplexity arose ; 
having hidden ourselves in various corners, we were with- 
in an ace of losing each other in the utter darkness, when 
we wanted to come forth. Michael had to run hither and 
thither to get us together again. Once more in order, we 
started again. The greatest difficulty, however, was yet to 
come. We had to pass through the gate of the prison 
before the doorkeeper and the sentinel. In this, however, 
we succeeded admirably. On hearing the voice of Michael, 
the door-keeper gave him the key to open the wicket, and 
the sentinel in his box paid no attention to our strange attire. 

" We had advanced a few steps, when lo ! an officer 
stood before us as though he had sprung from the ground. 
He, however, paid no attention, and we saw the handsome 
face of Valerian Ossinsky, who, radiant with joy, grasped 
our hands. He was awaiting us with a vehicle, so as to 



TWO ESCAPES. T r>5 

hurry us at full speed towards the Dnieper, where a skiff 
fitted for a long voyage, and supplied with provisions of 
every kind, was ready. 

" A moment afterwards we glided into the middle of 
the river and steered southward. This voyage lasted 
about a week. By night we hauled our boat up under the 
thickets on the banks, so as to get some hours' rest. By 
day we tugged hard at the oars, and whenever we caught 
sight on the distant horizon of the smoke of some steamer, 
we hid ourselves in the rushes which line the Dnieper. 

" On arriving at Kremencing we again met Ossinsky, 
who had reached there by railway, and was waiting for 
us with passports and everything necessary. 

" From him we learnt that the whole city of KiefT had 
been thrown into commotion, because it was believed we 
were concealed there. 

" At the prison our escape was not discovered until 
broad daylight. When it was seen that Michael had also 
disappeared with us, no one divined the truth. He had 
inspired such confidence, that the Governor and everybody 
believed we had killed him, and search was made in vain 
for his body in every direction. 

" It was not until the necessary verifications had been 
made, and it was found that his passport was a false one, 
that the mystery was explained, which had, until then, 
been incomprehensible." 

Thus finished the Cossack's narrative. 

Others spoke afterwards ; but their narratives being 
of little interest, and my space valuable, I will not repeat 
them. 



THE UKRIVATELI. 



(the concealers.) 

We are again in St. Petersburg. I was pursued ; I had 
the police at my heels. Twice I had to change my lodg- 
ings, and my passport. 

I could not, however, quit the capital for any pro- 
vincial town. I had a post which I could not leave to 
anyone, and then I was so fond of that city with its vol- 
canic throbbings and its nervous and ardent life, under 
an aspect cold and calm. 

I hoped that the storm, which from time to time 
bursts over almost all the " illegal " men, would after a 
while subside of itself, and that I should weather it, with 
a slight increase of precaution in my own house, without 
needing to have recourse to the " Ukrivateli." 

But what are these " Ukrivateli " ? 

They are a very large class, composed of people in 
every position, beginning with the aristocracy and the 
upper middle class, and reaching even to the minor 
officials in every branch of the Government service, in- 
cluding the police, who, sharing the revolutionary ideas, 



THE UKRIVATELI. ' 167 

take no active part in the struggle, for various reasons, 
but, making use of their social position, lend powerful 
support to the combatants, by concealing, whenever 
necessary, both objects and men. 

It would require a special volume to describe this 
unique body, which is a very large one, and perhaps more 
mixed than the militant body. I have no pretension, how- 
ever, to do more than present in this essay of mine some 
types among those whom I have had the opportunity of 
personally knowing 

I was just finishing my tea when the dvornik entered 
my room, not the dvorfiik of the house, who is the repre- 
sentative of the supreme power of the police, but our 
friend the terrible dvornik, who received this pseudonym 
as a joke because he would not permit any neglect or 
transgression in anything relating to the precautions for 
security prescribed by our " Constitution." 

" What is the matter ? " I asked, offering him a cup, 
for I knew very well that he would not have come except 
on " business." 

• "You are under surveillance even here," he "replied. 
" It must be stopped ; I have come to take you to a place 
of concealment." 

I expected it. As no one, however, cares to go to 
prison of his own free will in a city full of life and activity, 
I asked the dvor?iik for explanations. 

He began his story, I listened to him, and as I sipped 
my tea, I .put some little questions to him in order to con 
vmce myself of the reality of the danger. Our life is so 



1 68 REVOLUTIONARY SKETCHES. 

occupied, that if we paid attention to everything, we might 
as well throw ourselves into the Neva at once. 

To say the truth, it was nothing. of much moment even 
now ; I was under surveillance, but only slightly. The 
thing might blow over, and if anybody else but the dvornik 
had come, I should have rebelled, so as to preserve my 
independence a little longer ; but he was not to be trifled 
with. After some vain attempts at resistance, I was 
obliged to consent to place myself in his hands. 

I asked him where he wanted to take me. 

" To Bucephalus." 

I sighed deeply in thinking upon my wretched fate. 
This Bucephalus was a certain Councillor Tarakanoff, * 
an official in the Ministry of the Interior, and was thus 
nicknamed because, like the horse of Alexander of Mace- 
don, he was afraid of his own shadow. 

He was as timid as a hare, and was afraid of every- 
thing. He never stationed himself near the window, 
because he was afraid of draughts ; he never crossed the 
Neva in a boat, because he was afraid he should be 
drowned ; he never married, because he was afraid he 
should be jilted. 

Being, however, an ardent disciple of Cerniscevsky, 
he theoretically shared the ideas of the Revolutionists, 
and knowing many of them personally, willingly under- 
took the office of concealer, and was one of the safest* 

* I consider it my duty to warn the reader that, while preserving 
every characteristic feature, I have changed names, and certain de- 
tails of no importance, so as to destroy the identity of those who 
must not be recognized by the police. I have done so in this sketch, 
as in A Trip to St. Petersburg. 



THE UKRIVA TELI. 169 

His official position, and, perhaps even more, his char- 
acter, which had so little in it of the Revolutionist, placed 
him above all suspicion — not less, and perhaps more, than 
Caesar's wife. He knew very well that he was not 
threatened in any direction ; nevertheless, he always took 
the strictest measures for his own security, and saw spies 
everywhere. 

It is easy to imagine that, with such a custodian, the 
lot of those under his guardianship would be disagreeable 
enough. 

I remarked to the dvoniik that it would be better to 
wait for the evening before leaving, because then the spies 
he had seen prowling about the house, perhaps would have 
gone away. He, however, said " No," adding that as for 
the spies, he would answer for them. 

When tea was over, we proceeded to " clear" the room, 
that is, to destroy every scrap of paper which might be of 
use to the police. After informing the mistress of the 
house that I was going for a few days into the country, and 
that I would write to her if I stayed, etc., we left. 

We had advanced a few steps when I saw two gentle- 
men at the window, as though on the lookout, The dvor- 
nik, pointing them out to me with a glance, made an im- 
perceptible sign with his head which signified "there they 
are," and then another with his chin, which meant " let us 
be off." 

The " chase" commenced, but it is too uninteresting an 
occurrence to be described and too common to trouble 
about. With a man like my companion, it was something 
of an amusement. 



1 70 RE V OL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

The dvornik was a thorough specialist in everything 
relating to the struggle with the police and the spies, and 
in this branch had vast knowledge, increased by long and 
indefatigable study. Having hired a room on purpose ex- 
actly opposite the house of the chief of the Secret Police, 
he passed whole days in observing every one who entered. 
Thus he knew by sight a good number of the St. Peters- 
burg spies, and made a species of classification according 
to their manners, character, method of surveillance, of 
giving chase, etc., and could furnish most interesting particu- 
lars upon all these details. From having had so much to do 
with this vile set, he acquired a special ability in recognizing 
them at a glance, by certain indications, so. insignificant 
that they escape the most observant spies. He really re- 
sembled one of Cooper's Redskins, warring with the hostile 
race. Then, too, the dvornik had the topography of St. 
Petersburg at his fingers' ends, and knew every one of the 
houses with two entrances, having made a long and patient 
study of them. 

Passing through these houses, and dodging about in 
different directions, on foot, and in cabs, he succeeded in 
half an hour in " sweeping away our traces," as he said, and 
we set out for TarakanofFs with a profusion of precautions, 
of signs and of signals, which were the weakness of the. 
dvornik. 

. Tarakanoff, a man of about thirty-five, short, fat, and 
chubby, was expecting us, having been informed of our 
coming. He himself opened the door, and immediately 
took us into an inner room. It was an entirely superflu- 
ous precaution, for he was quite alone in his little lodging 



THE UKRIVA TELL 171 

of three rooms ; but Tarakanoff could not help taking 
it. 

As we were slightly acquainted, no introduction was 
necessary. 

TarakanofT began by asking if we had not been seen 
ascending the staircase. 

" You know," he added, " the lodger downstairs, a 
woman with great staring eyes, a milliner or something of 
that sort, always looks at me when she sees me pass. She's 
a spy, I am sure of it." 

As we replied in the negative, he was reassured ; but 
turning to me, said with a serious look : 

" In any case you must never leave the place. By day 
there is the milliner, by night there is the door-keeper, who 
is also a spy. It is very dangerous. Everything necessary, 
I myself will bring you." 

I mournfully assented with a nod, especially as I felt 
that the severe look of the dvornik was upon me. 

When the latter had gone, Tarakanoff took me into the 
room intended for me, where I found a little writing-table, 
some books upon political economy, and a sofa to serve me 
as a bed. 

A few days before, he had dismissed his cook ; it was 
said, because he suspected her also of being a spy ; but 
Tarakanoff denied this, saying that it was mere banter, and 
that he dismissed her because she pilfered so much out of 
the expenses. Meanwhile he determined not to engage 
another cook, but had his dinner sent in from a neighbor- 
ing eating-house. 

Not wishing to disturb his habits, Tarakanoff went out 



I y 2 RE VOL UTIOJSTAR Y SKE TCHES. 

and left me alone. He promised, however, to return to- 
wards dark. The gas had been lighted for a long while 
in the street before me, and yet he did not return. I be- 
gan to grow apprehensive. At last, however, I heard the 
key turn in the door, and he reappeared, safe and sound. 

I shook him heartily by the hand, and told him of my 
fears. 

" I did not care to come back straight," he replied, " lest 
I should be followed, and I have, therefore, returned in a 
somewhat roundabout way." 

I marvelled inwardly at the strange precautions of the 
worthy man. It was as though a doctor had taken his own 
medicine, in order to cure his patient. 

We passed the evening together, chatting on various 
subjects. At the least noise upon the staircase, Tarakanoff 
broke off to listen. I endeavored to tranquillize him, and 
said there would not be any danger. 

" Yes," he replied, frankly, " I know it, otherwise I 
should not have invited you ; but I can't help it. I am 
afraid/' 

Towards midnight I took leave of my host to go to bed. 
While I remained awake, I heard him incessantly pacing 
his room. 

On the following day, when Tarakanoff had gone to his 
office, after we had taken tea together, the dvornik came 
to pay me a visit, and to bring me a commission to write 
an article upon some circumstance of the moment, also 
bringing with him the neccessary materials, newspapers and 
books. I thanked him heartily, both for his visit and for 
his commission, and begged him to return as early as pos- 



THE UKRIVA TELL. jy 3 

sible, the next clay or the day after, promising to do every 
thing in my power to finish the article. 

In the evening I worked diligently, and passed a good 
part of the night at the desk. At intervals I heard my 
host turning in his bed. Two o'clock struck ; three, four ; 
he was not asleep. What was the matter ? He could 
not be disturbed by the noise I made, for I had put on his 
slippers on purpose. It could not even be the light, for 
the door was close shut. Could he be ill ? I remembered 
that, the day before, I saw he was looking rather pale, but 
I paid no attention to it. 

In the morning I was awakened by the noise of the 
cups which he was getting ready for the tea. I rose im- 
mediately, so as not to keep him waiting. 

He had, in fact, a woful aspect. He was pale, almost 
yellowish : his eyes were sunken ; his look was dejected. 

" What is the matter with you ? " I asked. 

" Nothing." 

" Nothing ! Why you have the face of a corpse, and 
you did not sleep before four o'clock." 

" Say rather that I did not sleep all night." 
" But you must be ill, then." 

" No ; I can never sleep when there is any one with 
me." 

Then I understood all. 

I took his hand and shook it warmly. 

" I thank you with all my heart," I said ; " but I will 
not cause you so much trouble, and at the very first moment 
[ will go away." 

" No, no ; certainly not ; certainly not. If I had im- 



E 7 4 RE V0L UTIONAR Y SKE TCBES. 

agined what you were going to say, I would have concealed 
it. You must remain. It is nothing." 
" But you may fall ill." 

" Don't give it a thought. L can sleep by day, or, bet- 
ter still, take some medicine." 

I learnt afterwards, in fact, that in such cases he took 
chloral when he could bear up no longer. 

Our conversation ended there. 

I looked at him with a mixed feeling of astonishment 
and of profound respect. This man was ludicrous in his 
fear ; but how great he was in his devotion ! I knew that 
his house was always open to all who were in my position, 
and that some of our party had remained there for weeks, 
as his guests. What must this man have suffered, who, 
by a cruel caprice of nature, was deprived of that merely 
physiological quality called courage ? How great, on the 
other hand, must have been his moral force ! 

When, on the following day, the dvornik came to fetch 
my article, I told him that I would not, on any account, 
remain longer with my host, and I begged him to find me 
another place of concealment as soon as possible. 

To my great astonishment he consented without offer- 
ing much resistance. 

" I have seen Seroff to-day," he said, " and he asked 
about you ; if. you like, I will speak to him. Just now, it 
seems, he is in an excellent position." 

Nothing could be better. The matter was soon settled. 
Two days afterwards I had already received a reply in the 
affirmative from Seroff. 

I arranged the matter so as to make my host believe I 



THE UKRIVA TELL. 

was going to a provincial town on certain business, and af- 
ter having shaken hands and warmly thanked him, I took 
my leave. 

" Good-bye for the present. Good-bye for the present," 
he repeated. " A pleasant journey. When you return I 
shall expect you. I am always at your service, Don't for- 
get." 

The night was already beginning to spread its sable 
wings over the capital when I left. I was alone, for I 
knew very well how to find SerofT, who was an old friend. 

II. 

There was a flood of light in the room. Around a large 
table, upon which a great shining samovar was steaming, 
five or six persons of both sexes were seated. They were 
Seroff's family, with some intimate friends. 

The host rose with a joyous exclamation. 

Boris SerofT was a man already in years. His thick 
long hair was almost white. It was not, however, years 
alone which had blanched this haughty head, for he was 
only fifty. He had been implicated in the first conspiracies of 
the reign of Alexander II. Towards the year 1861, being an 
army surgeon at Kasan, he took an active part in the mili- 
tary conspiracy of Ivanizky, and others of the same char- 
acter, one of the most glorious episodes of the Russian rev- 
olutionary movement, too soon forgotten by the present 
generation — and had to look on at the inhuman slaughter 
of all his friends. By a miracle he escaped detection, and 
some years afterwards settled in St. Petersburg. 



1 7 6 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

From that time, however, the police kept him in sight, 
and almost every year paid him a domiciliary visit. He 
was imprisoned ten or twelve times although his confine- 
ment never lasted long, as the police could not succeed in 
proving anything against him. It is true, he no longer 
took an active part in the conspiracies, for so many years 
of continuous effort, and of continuous failure, had extin- 
guished in him, what is the soul of all revolutionary activi- 
ty — faith. From the enthusiasm of his early years, he had 
passed to that disheartening scepticism which, in Russia, 
is the bane of the cultivated classes. Hence, among us in 
our revolutions, mature men are rare. Only the young and 
the old are to be met with. 

No scepticism, however, could eradicate from the heart 
of Boris Seroff an affection and a kind of worship, for those 
who, more fortunate or more youthful than himself, were 
able to remain in the ranks of the combatants. This affec- 
tion, combined with a certain chivalrous spirit, and an un- 
paralleled courage, always impelled him to render every 
kind of service to the Revolutionists. 

So many years' experience had given him great ability 
in everything relating to the externals of conspiracy ; the 
organization of correspondence, places of deposit for books, 
newspapers and prohibited papers, collection of money by 
subscriptions or monthly payments, etc. But he was un- 
rivalled in the most difficult and most valuable of all ac- 
cessory functions, that of the concealer, which he exercised 
continually. Indeed, one day he invited some friends to 
celebrate the jubilee of his tenth year of successful service 
in this office. With his courage, which was proof against 



THE UKRIVA TELL. 177 

everything, he never exaggerated anything, and never mis- 
took the shadows created by over-excited imagination for 
real dangers. If, however, there was danger, he never 
avoided it. He could discern the approach of the police 
in the distance, and even detect their traces when they had 
passed on, exactly like sporting dogs with game. From 
the more "or less martial aspect of the gorodovoi (municipal 
guard) standing at the corner of the street, he was able to 
determine whether the man had orders to watch his house 
or not. From certain inflections of the dvornik's voice, 
from his manner of raising his hat when he passed, Seroff 
could divine whether the police had spoken to the man and 
in what sense. From certain mysterious signs and tokens, 
he could tell when a search was imminent. 

A man whom he took under his protection might, there- 
fore, sleep with both eyes shut. 

To give an idea of the account in which he was held as 
a Concealer, it will suffice to say that it was to his house 
Vera Zassulic was taken by her admirers after her acquittal, 
when the whole city was turned topsy-turvy in the search 
for her, and the honor of the entire party was involved in 
secreting her. 

Sophia Perovskaia, who was a great friend of his, used 
to say that when Boris Seroff put up the safety signal over 
his door, she entered much more at ease than the Emperor 
entered his palace. 

Such was the man whose hand I shook. 

I joined the company seated around the table, and 
passed that evening very pleasantly, and every other even- 
ing while I remained in his house. 



178 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKB 7 VHES. 

This was not only the safest, but also the pleasantest 
imaginable of our places of concealment. Seroff never re- 
quired any of those superfluous precautions, which are so 
wearisome, and in time become insupportable. By day I 
remained at work in an inner room, so as to avoid being 
seen by the chance visitors who came to consult him as a 
medical practitioner. At night I was occasionally allowed 
to go out. Usually, however, I spent the evening there in 
the pleasant company of his family, graced by two charm- 
ing young girls, his daughters, with whom I soon formed 
that close friendship, so common in Russia between women 
and men, and so natural in our respective positions ; I, 
the protected ; they, the protectors. 

My stay in this family lasted, however, only about a 
week. 

- One day Seroff, who had come in at the dinner hour, 
turned to me and smilingly uttered, with a little inclination 
of the head,his customary remark : — 
H They smell a rat." 

" What has happened ? What has happened ? " ex- 
claimed the ladies. 

Oh, nothing yet," he said. " But they smell a rat." 
Do you think that the danger is imminent ? " I asked. 

" No, I don't think so," replied Seroff musingly, as 
though he were at the same time mentally weighing the 
matter. " I expect them, however, in a few days ; but, in any 
case, you must leave." 

To the suggestions of such a man, no objection of any 
kind could be urged. 

After dinner, Seroff went and warned our friends, and 



THE UKRIVA TELI. i , 

the same evening I took my leave, grieved beyond meas- 
ure to leave this delightful family, and, in company with a 
friend, recommenced my pilgrimage. 

A few days afterwards I was informed that the police 
had in fact gone to Seroff's to pay him their " sanitary 
visit," as he called these almost periodical searches ; but 
finding nothing suspicious, they went away again with 
empty hands. 

III. 

Madam Ottilia Horn was an old lady of about seventy. 
She was not a Russian, and she could only speak our lan- 
guage very badly. She had nothing whatever to do with 
our questions, home or foreign. She was, nevertheless, a 
Nihilist ; nay, a furious Terrorist. 

The story of her conversion to Nihilism is sp singular 
that it deserves to be related. 

Madam Ottilia was a Dane. She came wifn her first 
husband to Riga, and soon being left a widow, married a 
Russian, and proceeded to St. Petersburg, where her 
spouse obtained a small appointment in the police. She 
would have quietly passed her days there without ever 
thinking of Terrorism or Nihilism, or anything of the kind, 
if Fate had not decreed that the Princess Dagmar should 
become the wife of the hereditary Prince of the Russian 
Empire. 

It was really this event, however, which impelled Ma- 
dam Ottilia towards Nihilism ; and in this manner. 

Being a Dane by birth, and of a very fanciful disposi- 
tion, she conceived the ambitious plan of obtaining for her 



1 80 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

husband one of the innumerable Court appointments in 
the establishment of the new Archduchess. In order to 
carry out her project, Madom Ottilia went in person and 
presented herself to the Danish ambassador, so that he 
might use his influence in favor of her husband ; her first 
spouse, half a century before, having had either a contract 
or some small post — I don't remember which — at the 
Court of Copenhagen. 

As was to be expected, the ambassador would have 
nothing whatever to do with the matter, and sent her away ; 
but as Madame Ottilia was extremely tenacious of pur- 
pose, she returned to the charge, and then he was dis- 
courteous enough to laugh at her. 

Hence arose in the fiery mind of Madame Ottilia an 
implacable hatred against the poor ambassador. 

How* was she to gratify it ? Evidently she must chafe 
in secret without any probability of succeeding. 

In trnsT manner years and years passed. 

Meanwhile the Nihilists had commenced their under- 
takings. An idea flashed through the mind of Madame 
Ottilia. " This is exactly what I want," she repeated to 
herself, and became inflamed with unbounded enthusiasm 
for the Nihilists ; perhaps because she hoped that, having 
commenced with TrepofT, Mesenzeff, and Krapotkine, 
they would finish with the Danish ambassador, the greatest 
scoundrel of all; perhaps because the hatred against a man 
in the upper ranks, so many years restrained, burst forth 
in every direction and extended to his entire class. No 
one can say what was brooding in her mind. Who can 
divine, in fact, the thoughts passing through the giddy 



THE UKRIVA TELLI. 181 

brain of a woman of seventy ? The undeniable fact, 
thoroughly true and historical, is that Madame Ottilia was 
seized with an immense admiration for the Nihilists. 

As she let out rooms to the students, who are all more 
or less Nihilists, they, after laughing at first, at the tardy 
political ardor of Madame Ottilia, ended by taking it seri- 
ously ; for, in the investigations to which almost all .the 
students are subjected, Madame Ottilia gave proof of a 
courage and a presence of mind by no means common. 
She succeeded in hiding away books and compromising 
papers under the very nose of the police, thanks to her 
age, which placed her above all suspicion ; and to all the 
questions of the Procurator she replied with a shrewdness 
and prudence worthy of all praise. 

The students put her in communication with some 
members of the organization, and Madame Ottilia began 
her revolutionary career, first by taking charge of books, 
then of correspondence, and so on, until she ended by be- 
coming an excellent Concealer ; she could be thoroughly 
trusted. She was prudence itself, and incorruptible, as 
she showed on various occasions. 

This was related to me by my companion, as we passed 
through the streets of the capital to the little house upon 
the Kamenostrovsky, which Madame Ottilia possessed. 

The lady was awaiting us. She was a tall, sturdy wo- 
man, with an energetic, almost martial aspect, and seemed 
to be not more than fifty-five or sixty. 

Although this was the first time I had seen her, I was 
received with open arms, like a relative returning after a 
long absence. She immediately brought in the samovar 



x 8 2 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

with bread, milk, and sweets, bustled about, and showed 
me the room prepared for me, where I found all sorts of 
little preparations made, which only women think about. 

Madame Ottilia eagerly asked me for news of such and 
such a one, who had had to spend some few weeks in her 
house. Evidently, after having made personal acquaint- 
ance with the Terrorists, whom at first she admired at a 
distance, she had ended by loving them as tenderly as 
though they were her own children ; especially as she had 
none. But all her tenderness was concentrated upon those 
entrusted to her protection. I had much ado to keep her 
from troubling too much about me. She would, however, 
insist upon introducing me to her husband. 

The poor old fellow was just about to get into bed, but 
she imperiously made him get up, and a few minutes after- 
wards he entered, wrapped up in a shabby dressing gown, 
and came shuffling in, with his slippers down at heel. 

With a little childish smile playing about his toothless 
mouth, he stretched out his hand to me, making repeated 
bows with his bald head. 

The worthy old fellow was all submission to his fiery 
consort. 

" If necessary," said Madame Ottilia, with a martial 
gesture, " I will send him to-morrow to the police office 
to get some information." 

The worthy old fellow kept on smiling, and bowing his 
bald head. 

He also had been affiliated to the Nihilists by his 
energetic wife. 



THE UKRIVATELI. 183 

It was in the house of this excellent woman that I 
passed all my time until the storm had blown over, and 
the police, following up the tracks of others, had forgotten 
me. On being restored to liberty, I returned to active life, 
under another name, and in another district of the capital. 



THE SECRET PRESS. 



To establish a secret printing office, to give that power- 
ful weapon to the Freethought which struggles against 
Despotism, had always been the ardent, imperious desire 
of all the organizations, directly they felt themselves in a 
position to undertake anything of importance. 

As far back as the year i860, when the first Secret 
Societies were formed for the purpose of effecting the 
Agrarian Revolution, such as the Societies named " Land 
and Liberty " and " Young Russia," we see the first rudi- 
mentary attempts to establish something like a printing 
press in embryo, which, however, lasted only a few weeks. 

It was evident, henceforth, that the free press already 
existing abroad, although it had a writer like Herzen at 
its head, no longer sufficed for the wants of the militant 
party. 

During the last ten or fifteen years, when the move- 
ment had acquired a force and an extent previously un- 
known, the insufficiency of the free printing offices at 
work in Switzerland and in London, became more and 
more manifest, and the need of a local press ready to re- 
spond to the questions of the moment, became more and 
more urgent. 



THE SE CRE T PRESS. x 8 5 

Hence, all the organizations which afterwards dwindled 
down and disappeared one after the other in the prisons, 
and the fortresses, and the mines of Siberia, attempted to 
establish their printing offices in Russia itself. 

A fatality seemed, however, to weigh upon the under- 
takings of this kind; all proved short lived, and lasted 
only for a moment. They were sure to be discovered, 
directly they were established 

The Circle of the Karakosovzi had its printing office, 
which lasted only a few months. 

The Circle of Neciaevzi had its own, but it had to be 
kept hidden all the time, until it was discovered together 
with the organization. The Dolguscinzi also had theirs, 
which was discovered directly it had printed two proclama- 
tions. The Circle of the Ciackovzi made several attempts 
to establish one, and had the type and an excellent machine 
ready, but was not even lucky enough to set it up, and for 
five years the machine and the type remained hidden away 
in some hole and corner, the organization being unable to 
make any use of them. 

The difficulty, in fact, of setting up a printing office in 
a country where everything is watched, seemed insurmoun- 
table, because inherent in the undertaking. Books, papers, 
men, may be hidden ; but how is a printing office to be 
hidden, which by its very nature betrays itself ; which, in 
addition to its complicated and often noisy operations, re- 
quiring many people in combination, demands the continu- 
ous use of paper in large quantities, afterwards to be sent 
out as printed matter ? 

After the innumerable attempts which had been made 



x 86 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

and had failed, the establishment of a Secret Press was 
universally recognized, not as being merely difficult, but 
impossible ; it was only an idle dream, a waste of money, 
and a useless and senseless sacrifice of men. 

Earnest men did not speak about it, and did not care 
to hear it spoken of. 

There was, however, a " dreamer " who would not ac- 
cept the universally received opinion. He maintained, in 
the teeth of every one, that a secret printing office could 
be established in St. Petersburg itself and that" he would 
establish it, if supplied with the necessary means. 

This dreamer, named Aaron Zundelevic, was a native 
of Wilna (Lithuania) and the son of a little Jewish shop- 
keeper. 

In the organization to which he belonged (which after- 
wards adopted the motto, always old and always new, 
" Land and Liberty ") every one laughed at first at the 
fancies of Zundelevic; but he overcame this mistrust. 
About 400/. was allotted to him ; he went abroad, brought 
everything necessary to St. Petersburg, and having mas- 
tered the compositor's art, he taught it to four other per- 
sons, and established with them in 1877 " the free printing 
office " in St Petersburg, the first deserving that name, as 
it could be kept going regularly, and print works of some 
size. 

The plan upon which he established his undertaking 
was so well conceived and arranged, that for four consecu- 
tive years the police, notwithstanding the most obstinate 
search, discovered nothing, until treachery and a mere 
accident came to their aid. 



THE SE CRE T PRESS. 1 8 7 

The ice was, however, already broken. One press de- 
stroyed, others were established upon the same plan, 
which kept on, and worked without interruption. 

And from time to time, from secret hiding places, a 
mighty voice arises, amid the whispers of so many hypo- 
crites and flatterers, which drowns their feeble clamor, 
and, resounding from the Frozen Sea to the Black Sea, 
makes Despotism tremble beneath its blood-stained pur- 
ple ; for it proclaims aloud that there is a greater power 
than Despotism, the power of Freethought, which has its 
abiding place in generous hearts, and its instruments in 
zealous arms. 

Freethought called fire and sword to its aid, and with 
these terrible arms engaged in a desperate conflict, which 
will only end with the destruction of Despotism. In this 
conflict, its glorious banner, around which raged the 
thickest of the fight, and upon which the anxious looks of 
the combatants were turned, was the Secret Press. While 
this banner waved, while all the efforts of the enemy failed 
to wrest it from the hands of its defenders, there was no 
reason to despair of the fate of the party and the organi- 
zation, even after the most terrible partial defeats. 

How are we to explain, therefore, the marvellous fact 
of the existence, under the very eyes of the police, in a 
country like Russia, of a permanent secret printing press ? 

This fact, which gives, in my opinion, a better idea of 
the strength of the party than would be given by many 
dashing enterprises, is explained in a very simple manner. 
It was the result of the devotion of those who worked in 
the printing office, and of the care with which they carried 



1 88 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

out the minutest precautions, in order to keep it in opera- 
tion. 

Nobody went there ; nobody, except those who were 
compelled, knew where it was or anything about it. 

To give an idea of the caution upon this point, it need 
only be said that not only the members of the organization 
by which the office was maintained, but even the editors 
and contributors of the journal printed there, did not 
know where it was. One person only in the management 
was usually initiated into this secret by the representative 
of the office, and all communications had to be kept up 
by him. 

I went there once only, under these circumstances. I 
was one of the editors of " Land and Liberty," the journal 
of the party before it was divided into two sections. 

Communications were carried on at neutral points, 
the safest being always selected. I delivered the manu- 
scripts, took the proofs, and fixed the place and the exact 
time for the next appointment. In case of any unforeseen 
need, or of the communications being interrupted, I sent 
a post-card, fixing a fresh meeting, in a manner agreed upon 

Once, however, as I have said, I went to the office. 
It was on November 30, the very day on which the first 
number of the journal was to appear. That same morn- 
ing a friend came to me, and related that, having gone to 
the house of Trosciansky, where the police were lying 
hid, he was on the point of falling into their hands, but 
succeeded in escaping, thanks to his dexterity, and to his 
lucky idea of calling out ' Stop thief ! stop thief 1 " while 
the police were running after him. 



THE SECRET PRESS. 189 

I was very anxious to insert this piece of news in the 
number about to be issued, for the express purpose of 
ridiculing ZurofT, the head of the police, who declared 
everywhere that our printing office could not possibly be 
in the capital, because otherwise he would infallibly have 
discovered it. 

I profited, therefore, by this occasion to go to the 
printing office, which deeply interested me, especially as 
I had a pressing invitation from the compositors to pay 
them a visit. 

The office was in one of the central streets of the city. 
After infinite precautions, I reached the door, and rang in 
the customary manner. The door was opened by Maria 
Kriloff. I entered with the subdued feeling of a worshipper 
entering a church. 

There were four persons engaged in the office — two 
women and two men. 

Maria Kriloff, who acted as mistress of the house, was 
a woman of about forty-five. She passed for one of the 
oldest and most deserving members of our party. She 
had been implicated in the conspiracies of the Kara- 
ckosovzi. She was imprisoned and condemned to depor- 
tation to one of the northern provinces, but succeeded in 
* escaping, and became one of the " illegal." She con- 
tinued to work indefatigably for our cause in various ways, 
until she was arrested at her post, like a soldier, arms in 
hand, in the printing office of the " Cerni PeredieP' in 
1880. Thus, for sixteen consecutive years she remained 
in the ranks of the conspirators, caring for nothing except 



1 9 o RE VOL UT10NAR Y SKE TCHES. 

to be of use to the cause, and occupying the most modest 
and dangerous positions. 

She had worked in the printing office from the first, 
and although in every bad health, and half blind from 
increasing shortsightedness, she continued to work, and 
with so much zeal and self-devotion, that, notwithstanding 
her infirmity, she was as a compositor, equal to the most 
skilled workman. 

Basil Buch, the son of a general and the nephew of a 
senator, passed as the lodger of Madame Kriloff. He 
had a passport as an official in one of the Ministries, and 
went out accordingly every day, at a fixed hour, carrying 
in his portfolio the copies of the paper. He was a man 
of about, twenty-six or twenty-seven, pale, aristocratically 
elegant, and so taciturn that, for days together, he never 
opened his mouth. It was he who acted as the medium 
of communication between the printing office and the outer 
world. 

The third compositor did not hand down his name to 
posterity. He had already been in the ranks for three 
years, and was liked and esteemed by all ; but the member 
who introduced him into the organization being dead, no- 
body else knew his name. He was known by the nick- 
name of " Pitza" (the bird), given to him on account of his 
voice, and was never called otherwise. He committed 
suicide when, after four hours of desperate resistance, the 
printing office of the " Narodnaia Volia," was compelled 
to yield to the military by which it was besieged. 

He lived, thus, unknown, and unknown he descended 
into his grave. 



THE SECRET PRESS. I 9 r 

His fate was cruel indeed ; for, by way of greater 
precaution, he lived without his name being placed upon the 
registers of the population, well knowing that every pass- 
port presented to the police was always a danger. He 
had, therefore, always to remain concealed, and for 
several' months left the house, so as to avoid being seen 
by the dvornik. 

In general, all those who work in the printing offices 
break off almost all intimacy with the outer world and 
lead a monastic life ; but the poor " Bird " had to carry 
this caution to such an extent, that he was all but a com- 
plete prisoner, and was eternally shut up along with the 
type, in his dismal cage. 

He was a young man of twenty-two or twenty-three, 
tall, spare, with a skinny face, shaded by long raven black 
hair, which heightened the effect of his cadaverous pallor, 
arising from continuous deprivation of fresh air and light, 
and from handling the type in this atmosphere full of 
poisonous exhalations. His eyes alone were full of life ; 
very large and black, like those of the gazelle, bright, full 
of inexpressible kindness, and melancholy. He was con- 
sumptive, and knew it, but he would not abandon his post, 
for he was very skilful at the work, and there was no one 
to take his place. 

The fourth person was a girl who passed as the servant 
of Madame Kriloff. I never heard her name. She was 
a girl of about eighteen or nineteen, fair, with blue eyes 
delicate and graceful, who would have appeared very 
beautiful but for the expression of constant nervous ten 
sion in her pale face, which produced a most painful im 



1 9 2 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

pression. She was a living reflection of the continuous 
efforts which this life cost, maintained for months and 
months in this terrible place, exposed to the incessant 
prying of so many thousand police spies. 

After the first greetings I explained the object of my 
visit, that is to say, the desire to insert in the paper the 
amusing anecdote of the morning already mentioned. It 
need scarcely be added that this was received with the 
utmost delight. As, however, the paper was already set 
up, something had to be taken away to make room for the 
paragraph, though it was only a few lines. 

I went over all the rooms in which the work was carried 
on. The mechanism was extremely simple. A few cases 
with various kinds of type ; a little cylinder just cast, of a 
kind of gelatinous substance closely resembling carpenter's 
glue, and somewhat pleasant to smell; a large heavy cyl- 
inder covered with cloth, which served as the press ; some 
blackened brushes and sponges in a pan ; two jars of 
printing ink. Everything was arranged in such a manner 
that it could be hidden in a quarter of an hour, in a large 
clothes-press standing in a corner. 

They explained to me the mechanism of the work, and 
smilingly told me of some little artifices which they em- 
ployed to divert the suspicion of the dvornik, who came 
every day with water, wood, etc. The system adopted 
was not that of not allowing him to enter, but precisely 
the reverse. Under various pretexts, they made him see 
the whole of the rooms as often as possible, having first 
removed everything which could excite suspicion. When 



THE SE CRE T PRESS. 1 93 

these pretexts failed, others were invented. Being unable 
to lind a plausible reason for him to enter the inner room, 
Madame KrilofT one day went and told him that there was 
a rat there which must be killed. The dvoriiik went, and 
certainly found nothing ; but the trick was played ; he had 
seen the whole of the rooms, and could bear testimony 
that there was absolutely nothing suspicious in them. Once 
a month they invariably had people in to clean the floors 
of all the rooms. 

I was in no mood, however, to hear of these trifles, or 
to smile at them. 

I was assailed by profound melancholy, at the sight of 
all these people. Involuntarily, I compared their terrible 
life with my own, and felt overcome with shame. What 
was our activity in the broad light of day amid the ex- 
citement of a multitude of friends, and the stir of our daily 
life and struggles, compared with this continuous sacrifice 
of their whole existence, wasting away in this dungeon. 

I left. I slowly descended the stairs and went out into 
the street, a prey to various emotions. 

I thought of what I had just seen, I thought of the 
struggle for which they were offering up their lives. I 
thought of our party. 

An idea suddenly flashed through my mind. 

Are these people, I thought, the real representatives of 
our party ? Is not this the living picture which typifies in 
itself the character of our whole struggle ? A feeling of 
enthusiasm fired my heart. We are invincible, I thought, 
while the source is unexhausted whence springs so much 
unknown heroism, the greatest of all heroism ; we are in- 
vincible while the party has such adherents. 



A TRIP TO ST. PETERSBURG!!, 



INTRODUCTION. 

Loud and repeated knocks at my door made me start 
from my bed. 

What could be the matter ? Had I been in Russia I 
should have immediately thought that it was the police. 
But I was in Switzerland ; there was no danger. 

" Qui est la ? " I exclaimed, in French. 

" It is I," replied in Russian a well-known voice. 
" Open the door at once." 

I lit the candle, for it was dark, and hastily dressed. 
My heart was oppressed by a sad presentiment. 

A fortnight before, a member of our party, one of my 
earliest friends, who was seriously compromised in the 
final attempts against the Emperor, after staying some 
months abroad, set out for Russia. For several days we 
had waited in vain for the news that he had crossed the 
frontier. 

A terrible suspicion, which I dared not express, flashed 
across my mind. I hastily slipped on my clothes. 
I opened the door. 

Andrew abruptly entered the room without raising his 
hat, without shaking hands. 



A TRIP TO ST. PETERSBURG II. ^ 

" Basil is arrested," he said, at once. 

Basil was also his friend as well as mine. His broken 
voice betrayed his grief. 

I looked at him for a few moments with fixed staring 
eyes, as though not understanding what he had said. Then 
I inwardly repeated the three terrible words, " Basil is ar- 
rested," at first faintly, mechanically, like an echo, then 
with terrible distinctness, tearfully, and with a feeling of 
indescribable horror. 

Then all became silent. 

Something cold, horrible, awful, appeared to have sur- 
rounded me, to have invaded the whole room, the entire 
space, and to have penetrated to the very depths of my 
being, freezing my blood and numbing my thoughts. This 
something was the shadow of death. 

There was no time to lose, however, in idle despair. 
The first thing was to ascertain if all was really lost, or if 
something could yet be done. 

I asked for the particulars. 

He had been arrested on the frontier, and the worst 
of it was that this had taken place four days back, the 
contrabandist, instead of informing us by a telegram, hav- 
ing from economy sent a letter. 

" Where is the letter ? " 

" John has got it ; he has only just arrived. He is 
waiting for you at my house. I have come for you." 
We left the house. 

The dawn was just breaking, and illuminating the 
deserted streets with a pallid light. We proceeded in si- 
lence, with bent heads, plunged in mournful thoughts. 



1 9 6 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCIIES, 

John was awaiting me. We were friends ; we had not 
seen each other for some time. But sad indeed was our 
meeting. No friendly word, no question, no smile was 
exchanged. Silent and serious, we shook hands. Thus 
people greet each other in the house of death. • 

He read again the letter of the contrabandist. Basil 
had been arrested on the Prussian frontier, near Vergbo- 
lovo, and thrown into the prison of that town. What had 
happened since was not known, as the terrified contraban- 
dist had immediately recrossed the frontier. His subse- 
quent information was very contradictory ; at first it seemed 
as though Basil had been taken as a mere recruit infring- 
ing the regulations ; afterwards, however, the rumor ran 
that the gendarmes were mixed up in the matter, which 
indicated that it had a political character. 

As to the arrest itself, one thing was clear enough, the 
contrabandist was in no way to blame. He cleared himself 
and after having expressed his regret, asked for the money 
due to him. The arrest was the result of Basil's own care- 
lessness. Shut up in a garret all day, he wearied of the 
confinement, and went out for a walk. It was a childish 
act of unpardonable negligence. 

Our grief having need of some outlet, found vent in 
anger. 

" What a stupid fellow," I exclaimed, wringing my hands, 
" to run risks at such a moment ! To allow himself to be 
seen in a little frontier village, where everyone is closely 
watched ; at thirty to be such a child ! To be taken upon 
the frontier which everybody, without exception, passes 
quietly. It seems almost as though he had done it on pur- 



A TRIP TO ST. PETERSBURG!/. 197 

pose ! Well," I added, grinding my teeth, " he will get 
what he " 

I meant " what he might expect,'' but the words stuck 
in my throat. I drew a horrible picture. A scaffold, a 
beam, a noose, and within it 

I turned aside; I had to bite my lips till the blood 
came to prevent myself from bursting into tears. 

I continued for a time to pace the narrow room, in my 
agitation. 

Andrew, crushed by his grief as though by an enor- 
mous weight, was seated near the table, supporting almost 
all his body upon his elbow, seemingly prostrated. His 
commanding form lit up by the dull and dying light of the 
candle, seemed as though utterly broken down. Suddenly 
I stopped before him. 

" And now what is to be done ? " Andrew asked me. 

This was exactly what I wished to ask him. 

I abruptly turned away and resumed my walk, violently 
pressing my hand against my forehead, as though to force 
out some idea. 

" What is to be done ? " I repeated to myself. " That's 
the point. What is to be done in such a desperate posi- 
tion ? Including John's journey, five days have passed 
since the arrest of Basil. To reach the frontier and cross 
it would take five more days. In ten days the gendarmes 
will have had a hundred opportunities of recognizing the 
man they have in their hands, and of sending him, 
under a strong escort, to St. Petersburgh. The case is 
desperate. But perhaps they will still keep him at Verg- 
bolovo, or in some prison of one of the neighboring towns. 



1 98 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES, 

He has fallen into their hands in such a blundering 

manner, that they will perhaps think he is some one of no 
importance. But no, it is impossible. We have had our 
secret information that the gendarmes expected some one 
from abroad. The case is desperate. Something, how- 
ever, must be done." 

" We must send Rina," I said, with a faint smile. " If 
anything can yet be done, she will do it." 

" Yes, yes, we must send Rina ! " Andrew exclaimed, 
and a gleam of hope seemed to reanimate his pale face. 

" Yes, yes ; Rina," assented John, eagerly, " if there 
is anything to be done, she will do it." 

Rina was a Pole, the daughter of one of the many mar- 
tyrs of her noble country, born in a little town near the 
frontier, the principal, almost the sole, industry of which 
consists in smuggling. Having gone to St. Petersburgh to 
study, she was fired by the Socialist ideas, and in the Rev- 
olutionary movement of the early years of the last decade, 
occupied a special post ; that of " holding the frontier," 
that is, of organizing the communication between Russia 
and foreign countries, where in those days so many Revolu- 
tionary books were published. 

Her origin and a certain practical instinct, so common 
among Polish women, united with an acuteness and a cun- 
ning peculiar to her, rendered her not only very apt in deal, 
with the contrabandists, but made her really popular among 
them. She used jokingly to say that she could do more on 
the frontier than the Governor ; and she spoke the truth, 
for every one is venal there, beginning with the soldiers 
and the Custom House officials, and ending with the 



A TRIP TO ST. PETERSBURG IT. I99 

very magistrates of the towns. The only thing is to know 
how to deal with them. 

The propagandist period having passed, and the san- 
guinary days of the Terrorism having succeeded, Rina no 
longer took any part in the movement, as she did not 
believe in the possibility of succeeding by these means. 
She went abroad, studied in Paris, and then remained in 
Switzerland on account of her health. 

It was to this lady's house that I went direct. Andrew 
and John would wait for me. I rang. The door was 
immediately open, for it was now daylight, and people rise 
early in Switzerland. 

'* My mistress is asleep, " the servant said 

:< Yes, I know it, but a relation has arrived whom she 
will like to see at once," I replied in conformity with the 
Russian habit of always concealing everything relating to 
the Revolution. 

I went to Rina's door, and loudly knocking, I said in 
Russian, " I want to speak to you immediately ; come at 
once." 

" Directly, directly, " replied the somewhat troubled 
voice of Rina. 

Five minutes afterwards the door opened and she ap- 
peared, with her fine long raven tresses somewhat in dis- 
order. 

" What is the matter ? " she asked directly she had en- 
tered the room, timidly fixing upon me her large blue eyes. 

I told her in two words what had happened. 

Notwithstanding her dark complexion, I could see that 
she turned pale at the fatal news. 



2 oo RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

Without answering a word, she bent her head, and her 
entire girlish figure expressed indescribable grief. 

I would not disturb her in her thoughts. I waited for 
her to speak. 

" If we had only known of it in time, " she said at last, 
deliberately, as though speaking to herself, " all might 
perhaps have been made right, but now . " 

" Who knows ? " I replied. " Perhaps they are still 
keeping him to the frontier. " 

She shook her head doubtingly, without replying. 

" In any case, " I said, " we must try. I came expressly 
to ask you to go there. " 

Rina remained silent and motionless, as though she 
had not heard, or were not concerned. She did not even 
raise her long eyelashes which concealed her eyes, and her 
look was fixed upon the floor. 

II Oh ! as far as I am concerned, not a word need be 
said, " she at last lightly replied ; " but " 

She roused herself, and began to discuss the matter in 
a practical manner. 

It was anything but reassuring, I could not but admit. 
But she argued that an attempt must be made. In five 
minutes the matter was arranged. 

An hour afterwards Rina, with a few hundred francs, 
hastily collected among our friends, was flying by express 
train towards the Russian frontier, bearing with her all our 
hopes. 

The attempt failed, as Rina had clearly foreseen. On 
reaching the frontier, she lost a couple of days in vainly 
searching for our contrabandist, in order to obtain exact 



A TRIP TO ST. PETERSBURG!!. 201 

information from him. He kept in concealment, protracted 
matters, and at last escaped to America, taking with him 
the money, which meanwhile we had sent him by telegraph, 
for the eventual expenses. 

On learning of his flight, Rina crossed the frontier, al- 
most unaided, exposing herself to very serious danger, so 
as not to lose a moment's time. But Basil had already, 
for some little time, been sent away from the frontier. 
Having been recognized, he had been transferred to one 
of the chief towns and then to St. Petersburg 

Rina went there. It was not so much for the purpose 
of attempting to do anything more, but from a mere desire 
to visit the city, and see her old friends, as she was so near 
them. 

She reached St. Petersburg about a week before March 
13, and remained a fortnight more in the infernal caldron 
which St. Petersburg became after Alexander II. had been 
put to death. She set out towards the end of the month 
for one of the provinces in the interior of Russia where 
she still remains. 

Having undertaken to write these sketches, I thought 
'that it would not be without interest to add to them her re- 
miniscence of these terrible days. Therefore I wrote a letter 
to her on the subject. 

She consented, merely urging her non-participation in 
the movement, and her inexperience in writing. " But, " 
she added, " I will tell you everything I saw, just as it was. 
It will be for you to select what you require. " 

Having read her letters, I found them extremely in- 
teresting, in almost ever}'' respect. The fact that they were 



2 02 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCIIES. 

written by a person not belonging to the militant party, 
9 increases their value, in my opinion, by giving them a charac- 
ter of impartiality. 

With regard to the literary part, I have clone nothing 
more than put these letters into shape, for, with the addi- 
tions and explanations which I asked for, there were a 
good many of them. I had to make, it is true, some little 
amplification, but without importance, some fifty lines in 
all, which it would be mere pedantry to give as notes. They 
are confined to the accessory figures, and to certain things 
which would not be understood by a foreigner. I have 
sought to preserve the words of the authoress herself even 
in her general considerations (Part V., respecting the 
Russian youth), so as not to spoil this document, interesting, 
in my opinion, precisely because of its genuine charac- 
ter. 

As to the scenes connected with our great martyrs, I 
have not taken the liberty of changing one single word, 
for it would have been a sacrilege. She commences thus : 

I. 

On reaching St. Petersburgh, I went in search of my 
fellow countrywoman, and old friend, Madame Dubrovina. 
I knew that, although she took no part in the movement, 
she held, so to speak, a revolutionary salon, and would 
therefore be able to give me all necessary information. I 
was welcomed with open arms. She told me that some of 
the Terrorists came, in fact, from time to time to her salon 
She could give me no information, however, respecting 



A TRIP TO ST. PETERSIWRGII. 203 

Betty, the wife of poor Basil, whom I desired above all, to 
see. 

Not having been for several years in St. Petersburg, I 
fancied that, in these later days, the life of a Nihilist must 
be a terrible one. 

Madame Dubrovina assured me, indeed, that after every 
fresh attempt, for some Utile time, in fact, it was rather hot 
work ; when the storm had passed, however, it was all 
right again. " Now," she added, "we are in a dead calm." 

I had no passport, and this caused me much anxiety. 
Madame Dubrovina, however, assured me that I had 
nothing to fear, and that I should get on very well with- 
out one. 

Meanwhile Betty must be found. It was a very ardu- 
ous task, for the Nihilists, keeping especially secret' their 
places of residence, are generally very difficult to find. I 
was told that a certain D., in order to find a friend residing, 
like himself, in St. Petersburg, had to journey to Kieff, 
two days distant by railway, to learn his address, and then 
return to St. Petersburgh. 

I had to make interminable journeys throughout the 
city, to call upon one person and another, presumed to be 
capable of furnishing some information to enable me to 
find Betty. But nothing came of them. 

Two days passed thus. I scarcely knew what to do. 
Madame Dubrovina, however, who was evidently thoroughly 
acquainted with the world in which she lived, advised me 
not to trouble about it, and to trusi to Fate. 

In the Nihilist world, news, however slight may be its 
bterest, spreads with marvellous rapidity. She thought 



204 RE V0L UTIONAR Y SKE TCIIES. 

that the news of the arrival of a lady from Switzerland 
would soon get about, and that Betty hearing it, would 
divine that I was the lady and send somebody to fetch me. 
This in fact happened. 

On the third day we were pleasantly chatting with 
Madame Dubrovina and some of her friends, when Bonzo 
entered, the same Bonzo who, owing to his fondness for 
experiments, was four times within an ace of killing him- 
self with different poisons, and said to me in a mysterious 
manner : 

" May I have the pleasure of taking your arm ? " 

He said this with so much solemnity that we all of us 
burst into a loud laugh. He, on the other hand, impassible 
and serious, buttoned his gloves. His tall and meagre 
form was as upright as a pole. I sprang up, amid the 
general merriment, and took him by the arm, showing how 
I should play the fine lady in the street. 

Bonzo, as serious as ever, with his bald head thrown 
back, his bronzed forehead without eyebrows, and his 
skinny face, looked something between the Knight of the 
Rueful Countenance and an Indian, idol. 

There was no need for him to tell me, when we left, 
where he was taking me. I knew he was a friend of Betty 
and of Basil, who admired him for his determination while 
ridiculing his excessive fondness for precautions. Having 
walked some two hundred yards arm in arm, as if on show, 
Bonzo took a cab for Pesky, as it was a long way off. The 
horse went slowly. The journey seemed interminable 

" Oh, how far it is ! " said I to my companion. 

" At present we are going away from it." he said. 



A TRIP TO ST. PETERSBURG II. 205 

I rebelled against such a profusion of precautions, de- 
claring that I wanted to go to Betty's direct; but Bonzo 
was inexorable. 

On reaching Pesky, Bonzo took a second cab for the 
Polytechnic, after walking another two hundred yards. 

We had scarcely alighted from the vehicle when it was 
taken by an officer. This filled my companion with ap- 
prehension. Upon the pavement were two little mendi- 
cants, a girl and a boy of eight or ten. I stopped before 
them, they were so handsome. 

" Give us a kopeck, lady ? " exclaimed the children, 
holding out their hands. 

I said a few words to them, and gave a kopeck to each. 

" What a thing to do," said Bonzo to me in a troubled 
voice, when we had passed on. " Don't you know that they 
are little spies ? The police have plenty of these sham beg- 
gars and send them about to watch people." 

I smiled at Bonzo's extreme shrewdness, and we con- 
tinued" our wanderings, which lasted at least an hour. 
When we reached the house where Betty was awaiting me, 
the gas was being lighted in the streets. 

The aspect of the poor lady was most painful. I had 
some difficulty in recognizing her, she was so thin, pale 
and prostrated. 

The room in which we conversed began by degrees to 

fill with people. Many came with the plaid and blouse of 

the students. A few minutes afterwards, the mistress of 

the house came in, a young and handsome brunette, and 

taking Betty aside, told her the room was engaged that 

evening for a meeting of students.* 

j~ * See the chapter upon Demetrius Lisogub. 



2 o6 RE VOL UTIONAR V SKE TCHES. 

She invited us to attend it but we were not in the mood. 
I could not, however, but express my astonishment and 
pleasure that, after so many attempts, there should be so 
much freedom of action in St. Petersburg. 

" Yes," replied Betty, " and it is a bad sign. But as 
every one knows," she added, citing a Russian proverb, 
" Until the thunderbolt falls, the peasant never crosses 
himself." 

It was suggested that we should descend to a lower 
floor where there were other rooms at our disposal. 

We spent the rest of the evening there, talking upon 
our business. I related to her all my adventures upon the 
frontier ; the flight of the contrabandist, the removal of 
Basil ; everything. She told me what, meanwhile, she had 
done in St. Petersburg. It amounted to very little. I re- 
garded the matter as utterly hopeless. Betty would not 
give in ; she still hoped. 

II. 

On the following day I saw for the first time Jessy 
Helfman at Madame Dubrcvina's. 

What struck me in her face was an expression of in- 
describable suffering around her mouth, and in her eyes. 
But no sooner was I presented to her than she began to 
talk with animation upon " business," upon the pro- 
grammes of the various sections, upon the Red Cross, etc. 

I saw her many times afterwards, and she gave me the 
impression of being one of the most sincere, simple, and 
modest of worsen, and devoted beyond all expression to 



A TRIP TO ST. PE TERSB URGII. 207 

the cause ; without, however, possessing any power of in- 
itiative. 

Her husband, Kolotkevic, * had been arrested some 
days before my arrival. Notwithstanding the overwhelm- 
ing sadness which oppressed her heart, and revealed itself, 
in spite of her, in her eyes, her face, and her voice, she 
was always occupied with the business of the party, and of 
all those who wished to entrust some commission to her. 
Madame Dubrovina, and every one who knew her, said her 
kindness was beyond all comparison. 

She seemed to have no time to devote to her own af- 
fairs and her own grief, or to be ashamed to do so. 

I recollect that one day she handed a note to Madame 
Dubrovina to be taken to Skripaceva, who was in regular 
communication with the gendarme who secretly transmitted 
letters to the political prisoners confined in the fortress of 
St. Peter and St. Paul. What grief revealed itself in her 
voice, which she vainly endeavored to control, when she 
begged Madame Dubrovina to forward this little note to 
her husband, who was also detained in the fortress ! 

Unfortunately the communication with the fortress be- 
ing broken off, her note could not be transmitted, and I 
saw that Madame Dubrovina gave it back to her. 

Jessy Helfman often came to Madame Dubrovina's, 
and everybody in the house liked her, even the old grand- 
mother. 

I noticed that she was very timid. Whenever they in- 
vited her to dine, or to eat something, she invariably re- 
fused. Very rarely she would take a cup of tea, although 

* Condemned to death in the trial of the 22 (April, 1SS2.) 



2 08 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

I knew she was often very hungry, for, engaged as she was 
she frequently had no time to return home, and take some 
food. 

In my long peregrinations subsequently in search of my 
night's lodging, I had to visit very many houses. Jessy 
Helfman was known everywhere, and the young spoke of 
her with great respect. The students had much affection 
and esteem for her, and were always pleased when Jessy 
paid them a visit. She was always thoroughly acquainted 
with everything new in the Revolutionary world, so in- 
teresting to society at large, and especially to the young. 
Her pockets and her large leather reticule from which she 
was never separated, were always full of proclamations of 
the Committee, of copies of the " Narodnaia Volia," of 
tickets for lotteries, concerts, balls, and dramatic perform- 
ances for the benefit of the exiles, or the prisoners, or the 
Secret Press. She knew no end of addresses, and could 
arrange an appointment with any of the principal Terror- 
ists. 

It was she who brought me one day a message from 
Sophia Perovskaia, whom I had known some years before. 
She said that Sophia would have come to see me had she 
not been ill. 

III. 

Some days afterwards, I saw Sophia Perovskaia at 
Olenin's, an old friend of mine employed in an office. 
White as a sheet, she could scarcely drag one foot before 
the other, and no sooner had she entered the room than 
she reclined on the sofa. 



A TRIP TO ST PETERSBURG/I. 209 

She came to receive the monthly collection made by 
Olenin ; a very small sum, a hundred roubles or so. Un- 
fortunately the money had not been paid in. I had in my 
pocket a hundred roubles not belonging to me, which I had 
been asked to hand over to a person about to arrive in St. 
Petersburg. I offered to lend them to her for a couple of 
days ; her aspect was so painful, and I thought that, ex- 
cept for some very urgent need, nobody would ask for the 
money at such a late hour (it was already eleven o'clock) 
and in her state of health. But Sophia Perovskaia did not 
accept my offer, saying that she was not sure she would be 
able to return the money to me in such a short time. Mean- 
while she told us that she had spent her last farthing, hav- 
ing been followed by a spy, and compelled to change her 
cab several times in order to escape. She added that she 
was not even sure she had succeeded, and that at any mo- 
ment the police might come to Olenin' s to arrest her. It 
was essential that Sophia should leave as quickly as pos- 
sible. We emptied our purses into hers. As to Olenin, 
who was an old fox, his residence was always perfectly 
" clean," that is, had nothing compromising about it. But 
I had in my pocket a number of copies of the " Narodnaia 
Volia." Rather than let them be burnt Sophia took them 
with her, saying that if she were arrested with such things 
about her, it would not make any difference as far as she 
was concerned. 

She left hastily ; but before going said she would like 
to make an appointment with me for the next day if she 
were still " alive," that is to say, at large. We fixed the 
place and the hour. But she did not come, and I was ter- 



2 1 o RE VOL UTIOXAR Y SKE TCHES. 

ribly afraid she had been arrested. On the following day 
Jessy pacified me. Sophia was at large, but could not 
leave the house, being seriously ill. 

All this took place two or three days before March 13. 
As I learned afterwards, on the day before our meeting at 
Olenin's, GeliabofT was arrested. 

On the morning of the 13th, it was a Sunday, I went 
to a friend's at Gatschina, which in those days was not 
what it is now, but one of the quietest little plaees in all 
Russia. 

We heard rumors of the event from Nadia's servant on 
Monday morning. 

The parish priest came about one o'clock and related 
that he had heard something about it from the country peo- 
ple, who had arrived from St. Petersburg ; but no official 
news reached us. In the evening, however, Nadia's eldest 
sister arrived with the newspapers. 

What hours we passed I need not relate. Nadia was 
taken ill. 

Then came terrible days. Days of torment, of suspi- 
cion, of horror. The end of the world seemed to have ar- 
rived. Every fresh newspaper brought news of fresh rig- 
ors against the Nihilists, and of fresh discoveries made by 
the police. Then came the terrible Telegnaia incident, 
the suicide of a person unknown. Then came arrest after 
arrest, singly and in scores. 

How enter this hell upon earth ? How remain out of it ? 

At last I could endure it no longer, and resolved to go 
to St. Petersburg. 

It was on the Thursday. 

The city, in mourning throughout, oppressed the mind. 



A TRIP TO ST. PETERSBURG! 211 

The lamps, the houses, the balconies, the windows, all 
were covered with mournful stripes of black and white. 

I went direct to Madam Dubrovina's. The whole fam- 
ily was staying in-doors. Upon every face, a panic fear 
was depicted. Madam Dubrovina received me with ex- 
clamations of terror. The aspect of the others was not 
more reassuring. 

" What ill wind has bronght you here ? Why have you 
come into this horrible place ? Do you not know that I 
myself am being watched by the police ? Where on earth 
do you think I can conceal you at such a moment ? " 

All this Madam Dubrovina said to me with an agitated 
voice, pacing the room, and occasionally stopping in front 
of me. 

44 Why had I not remained at Gatschina? Why had I 
come into this horrible place ? What a nice predicament I 
was in ! " I thought to myself. 

A few days afterwards my dear friend made it up with 
me, and it was to her I was indebted for at least a fourth 
of my nights lodgings, for which I shall be grateful to her 
as long as I live. But just then she was inexorable. Her 
irritation against me reached its height when an unknown 
very well dressed, suddenly entered the room, and said 
she wished to speak to Madam Dubrovina in private. 

On the instant every one was dumb. We were per- 
plexed and alarmed, for the younger sister of Madam Dub- 
rovina had disappeared for some few hours. No one knew 
where she was. We immediately thought some disaster 
had happened. 

In a short time, however, Madam Dubrovina returned, 



212 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SICE TCIIES. 

and taking me aside, said the lady had come in search of 
me from Sophia Perovskaia. 

I could have leaped for joy at hearing these words. 
She was " alive," and evidently wanted to go abroad. The 
idea never occurred to me that she could need me for 
any other purpose than that of passing the frontier, which 
was my special office. 

Filled with these pleasant thoughts I entered the room 
where Sophia awaited me. She advanced to meet me. I 
began by expressing to her my extreme pleasure at her de- 
termination to go abroad. 

She stared as though she had heard something utterly 
incomprehensible. 

Seeing my error, I implored her to quit the capital, 
where such close search was being made for her. I had 
not then the faintest shadow of suspicion respecting her 
participation in the event of March 13, and only learned it 
from the newspapers. But the part she had taken in the 
Moscow attempt, already revealed by Goldenberg, and re- 
lated in the newspapers, was, in my opinion, a reason more 
than sufficient for withdrawing from St. Petersburg at such 
a time. 

But she met all my urgent appeals with a persistent re- 
fusal. 

"It is impossible," she said, "to quit the capital at 
such an important moment. There is so much to do, so 
many people to see." 

She was enthusiastically excited by the terrible vic- 
tory obtained by the party. She believed in the future, 
and saw everything in a rose-colored light 



A TRIP TO ST. PETER SB URGH. 213 

She resolutely cut short my entreaties, and explained 
why she had sent for me. 

She wanted to know something about the trial of the 
Czaricides. The idea was to go to a very great person- 
age, an " Excellency," a man connected with the Superior 
Police, who undoubtedly would be able to give us some 
information respecting the trial, although the investiga- 
tions were being carried on with the utmost secrecy. This 
man was not in regular communication with the Nihilists- 
It so happened that I had known him personally for some 
years. That was why Perovskaia had thought of me. She 
was very anxious about it. The man she loved was among 
the accused. Although terribly compromised, it so hap- 
pened that he had taken no direct part in the event of 
March 13 ; and Sophia hoped. . . . 

I told her I would willingly go, not only to " His Ex- 
cellency," but, if she thought it desirable, to my " gen- 
darme" also, with whom some years previously, I had been 
in communication for the correspondence of the political 
prisoners. 

To this, Sophia, however, would not agree, saying that 
my " gendarme" had broken off all connection with the 
Nihilists, and would infallibly hand me over to the police, 
and, if afraid of my revelations, would send a swarm of 
spies after me. In any case he would tell us nothing, and 
perhaps would know nothing. With "His Excellency.'" 
on the other hand, there was nothing to fear, as he was 
personally incapable of any baseness, and at heart sym- 
pathized, up to a certain point, with the Nihilists. 

It was arranged that at ten o'clock the next morning I 



2i 4 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCIIES. 

should go to " His Excellency." Sophia wished to have 
a reply as soon as possible, but contrive as she might, she 
could not make an appointment with me before six o'clock 
in the evening. Being unable to repress my astonishment 
at this, she explained to me the distribution of her time ; 
she had seven appointments for the next day, and all in 
different parts of the city. Our conversation having ended 
Sophia called a young man, who was a member of the 
family in whose house we had our appointment, and sent 
him to the adresni stol (the address bureau) to get the ad- 
dress of my " Excellency." A young lady, a friend of the 
family, was sent by Sophia Perovskaia to find me a night's 
lodging, as I told her I was in want of one. 

Meanwhile we remained alone, and I began to implore 
her anew to get out of the country. I proposed to her, if 
she thought it impossible to quit Russia for some time, 
merely to take her to some little frontier town, where we 
could spend two or three weeks together. She would not 
hear of it, and ridiculed my weakness, but in a good- 
natured manner. 

Then she changed the subject. She told me who was 
the young man killed by the explosion of the bomb thrown 
at the feet of the Emperor. She told me that the man 
who had committed suicide upon the Telegnaia was Nicho- 
las Sablin, whom I had known some years previously. 
This news made me shudder. 

When the young lady returned who had been sent to 
find me a night's lodging, we parted. Sophia asked me if 
I wanted any money to enable me to be elegantly dressed 
when presenting myself to " His Excellency." This time 



A TRIP TO ST. PETERSBURG!!. 215 

her pockets were full of money, but I said I was in no need 
of any, as I had a dress with me that was quite good 
enough. The following day I called upon " His Excellency," 
who received me much more politely than I expected, and 
gave me all the necessary information very fully. It was 
sad news indeed ! The fate of Geliaboff, as of all the 
others, was irrevocably fixed. The trial was to be merely 
pro forma for appearance sake. 

Towards six o'clock I went with*this news to keep my 
appointment. Sophia Perovskaia did not come until nine. 
When I saw her enter I gave a deep sigh of relief. We 
both had anything but an inviting appearance ; in my case, 
because of the torture caused by the delay ; in hers be- 
cause, as she said, she was very tired, or perhaps from 
some other cause. They brought us the samovar and left 
us to ourselves. 

I communicated to her at once the information I had 
received. I did not see her face, for her eyes were cast 
down. When she raised them I saw that she was trem- 
bling all over. Then she grasped my hands, sank down, 
and buried her face in my lap. She remained thus for 
several minutes ; she did not weep, but trembled all over 
Then she arose and sat down, endeavoring to compose 
herself. But with a sudden movement she again grasped 
my hands, and pressed them so hard as to hurt me. 

I remember that I proposed to her to go to Odessa and 
fetch some of GeliabofTs relatives for the visits. But she 
replied that she did not. know their exact address; and 
that, moreover, it was too late to arrive before the trial 



2 1 6 #E VOL UTIONA R Y SICE TCHES. 

" His Excellency" was astonished that Geliaboff had 
declared that he was the organizer of the attempt. 

When I told this to Perovskaia, she replied in these 
words : 

"It could not be otherwise. The trial of Risakoff 
alone would have been too colorless." 

" His Excellency" had communicated to me many 
particulars respecting the proud and noble bearing of 
Geliaboff. • 

When I related them to Sophia, I observed that her 
eyes flashed and the color returned to her cheeks. 
Evidently it was a great relief to her. 

" His Excellency" also told me that all the accused 
already knew the fate awaiting them, and had received the 
announcement of their approaching death with wonderful 
tranquillity and composure. 

On hearing this, Sophia sighed. She suffered im- 
mensely. She wanted to weep, but restrained herself. 
For a moment, however, her eyes were filled with tears. . 

At that time persistent rumors were in circulation 
throughout the city, that Risakoff had made some dis- 
closure. But " His Excellency" denied this, I do not 
know why. I remember that I referred to this denial, 
drawing the conclusion from it that perhaps even " His 
Excellency" did not know everything. I simply wished to 
tranquillize her in any way ; but she replied : 

"No, I am persuaded it is quite true. On this point, 
also, he must be right. I know Risakoff, and believe he 
will say nothing ; nor Micailoff either." 

She then told me who this Micailoff was, there being 



A TRIP TO ST. PETEKSBUKGH. 2 i 7 

so many other men of this name among the Terrorists, and 
beaded me to communicate to a friend of mine what one 
of them had disclosed respecting him. 

We remained together almost until midnight. She 
wished to leave first, but was so worn out that she could 
scarcely stand. This time she spoke little, her voice being 
faint, and her words brief. 

Sophia promised to come to the same house on the 
following day between two and three o'clock in the after- 
noon. I arrived at half-past two, but she had preceded 
me, and had not had time to wait for me. Thus I never 
saw her again. 

Two days afterwards she was arrested. 

IV. 

My days became very melancholy. My equivocal posi- 
tion, neither " legal" nor " illegal," caused me infinite anx- 
iety. Being absolutely unconnected with the movement, I 
did not care to take a false passport. 

Being without a passport I had, however, to go con- 
tinually in search of places of concealment, and of my 
night's lodging ; to find them, owing to my strange position, 
was extremely difficult. 

I could not avail myself of the places of concealment 
which the Terrorists have, especially as in those unhappy 
days they themselves had urgent need of them. I had to 
act for myself. To whom could I turn? My personal 
friends, who alone did anything for me, were, like Madame 
Dubrovina, " suspected persons." Only very rarely could 
I go to them. 



2l8 



REVOLUTIONARY SKETCHES. 



Whether I liked it or not, I had to appeal, as it were, 
to the public charity. 

I thus had opportunities of becoming acquainted, partly 
at least, with the middle class, which may be called neu- 
tral ; because it either does not wish to take part in any 
struggle, or, while sympathizing to the utmost with the 
Revolutionaries, has not yet taken a direct part in the 
movement. I speak of the peaceful middle class, which 
thinks only of its own selfish comforts ; and of the young 
engaged in study. 

Of these two classes only can I speak. 

With regard to the former I shall be very brief ; the 
subject is too sickening. I have remarked this in Russia, 
those quake most who have the least reason to quake.* 

I will relate only a single incident. 

* In connection with this very just observation, I will relate an in- 
cident in my own experience. A certain P., a m;in of about forty, the 
proprietor of a commercial establishment, a gentleman, and if I re- 
collect aright, a member of some administrative council, a man, in 
fact, in an excellent social position, wished one day to give a pecuniary 
donation to the Terrorists. But as he was very suspicious, he could 
not resolve to send it through a third person, and wished to place it 
in the hands of some member of the party. After much hesitation, 
he at last decided to speak to a certain N., who was an intimate friend 
of twenty years' standing. The latter highly praised his intention, 
and told him he could easily arrange an appointment with me, be- 
cause we were excellent friends with this N. The sum was not very 
large, but was not to be despised ; about five hundred roubles. The 
day and the hour being fixed, I went with N. to P.'s house. He had 
one of his own. P. had had the precaution to send away the dvomik, 
and his own servant. As the family were at some watering place 
abroad, he was quite alone in the house. Directly we rang the bell, 
he hastily descended the stairs with a caudle in his hand (it was al- 
ready late), but no sooner had he caught sight of us than he blew out 
the candle. We ascended the staircase in profound darkness; it was 



A TRIP TO ST PETERSBURG II. 



219 



I learnt on one occasion by chance that one of my 
earliest and most intimate friends, Emilia — we had been 
more than sisters together for many years — had come to 

a precaution. We entered the most secluded room on the second 
floor of the perfectly empty house; the candle was lit again. The 
business commenced, and was carried on in a very strange manner. 
P. would on no account address himself to me directly, for he repeated, 
"I have seen nobody, nobody but Mr. N. has been in my house." He 
continued thus to address himself to this latter, as if I were not pres- 
ent ; I replied in the same manner. When, after some preliminaries 
the question of the money was introduced, P. made me stare by a 
very strange request, still in the third person, that I should sign for 
him, in my own name, be it understood, a bill of exchange for the 
sum which he gave me. "Iam quite ready to comply with the re- 
quest of the worthy Mr. P.," I said, addressing myself to N., "but 
would you mind asking him the object of this transaction, which I am 
quite unable to guess," and thereupon Mr. P. began to explain to N. 
that the object he had in view was this : if the police heard of his 
offence and came to search his office and examine his books, 
they would find an inexplicable deficiency in his cash account. 
That was why he wished to have a bill of exchange from me. 
Having heard this explanation, I declared myself perfectly satis- 
fied. But N. dissuaded the ingenious donor, observing to hi m 
that my writing might be known to the police, and that therefore it 
would be much better to sign the bill himself. I do not know whether 
P. did so or not. The business question being settled, P. so far took 
heart as to address himself directly to me. Among other things, I re- 
collect he said he did not believe in the possibility of a revolution in 
Russia, because " the Russians are very timid. I know it well," he 
added, " for I am a Russian myself." But he admired the courage of 
the Revolutionists, and had consequently resolved, "after having 
long thought about it/' to present them with this donation. Me told 
me that he obtained our proclamations occasionally, but ahvavs read 
them in a certain private part of the house, a bit at a time, so as not 
to awaken the suspicions of his servant. lie kept them hung up in 
the air by a thin thread, fastened in such a manner, that if any one 
meddled with them, without taking certain precautions, the thread 
would snap, and the dangerous collection would fall where, he hoped, 
the police would not make any search. k{ What do you think of that ? " 
he added, turning to me. I was somewhat mortified by the slight re- 



220 



RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 



St. Petersburg. I wished to see her immediately ; but as 
she had just arrived, her address could not be found in the 
adrensi stol and I was obliged to have recourse to Professor 
Boiko, also from my part of the country, who was a friend 
of the family. 

I spent half a day in this search, in a state of almost 
feverish excitement. 

Boiko advised me not to go and see her, saying that 
Emilia, being from my part of the country, knew I was a 
" refugee," and that therefore my arrival would terrify her 
not a little. But I paid no attention to him, so great was 
my confidence in Emilia. 

At last, in company with Boiko, I arrived at the wished 
for door. I asked the doorkeeper if they were in. 

He said " Yes" and I flew up the stairs with my heart 
full of delight, slowly followed by Boiko. 

It was Sunday. The servants had probably gone 
out, and therefore Emilia opened the door herself. 

The scene which followed passes my powers of de- 
scription. 

At sight of me she began to tremble in every limb. I 
advanced towards her, and she fell back. Some minutes 
passed before I was able to embrace her retreating form, 
and cover her pale face with kisses. 

spect he showed for our proclamations, but I admired his stra f agem 
notwithstanding. I forgot to mention that during the whole of my 
visit, P. started from his seat every five minutes, and ran to the door 
to see if there was anybody concealed there, although there was not a 
soul in the house and the lower door was shut. This entire scene, 
which I recommend to the attention of our great satirist Scedrin, is 
thoroughlv authentic. N. could testify to this, and I have not added 
a line- 



A TRIP TO ST PETERSBURG!!. 2 2i 

When at last we entered the sitting-room from the ante- 
chamber this was the picture that presented itself before me. 
Emilia's husband and her brother, the latter also a 
friend of my childhood, were seated at a table playing 
cards. 

They did not move ; they did not offer me the slightest 
greeting ; they remained as though petrified. 

The silence, embarrassing and oppressive beyond meas- 
ure, lasted some little time. 

" Do not interrupt the game/'' I said at last, to relieve 
Emilia in this embarrassment. 

She tried to smile, but her smile resembled a grimace. 
I began to speak of myself. I said I had taken not the 
slightest part in what had happened during the previous 
years, that I was almost " legal," that if this fatal time had 
not come I should have endeavored to obtain a fresh pass, 
port ; in a word, that she ran not the slightest risk in receiv- 
ing me, for otherwise I should not have come. 

Emilia knew thoroughly well that I was incapable of 
telling an untruth. 

I thought my words would have tranquilized her. But 
they produced no impression. It was one of those instinct- 
ive panic fears which are uncontrollable, and against which 
no reasoning avails. 

Emilia, still as pale as death, stammered out that she 
was terrified to see me at such a time. 

At last the two gentlemen arose, and advanced to shake 
my hand. The paralysis which had seized them seemed 
to have lost something of its acute character. 

I remained at Emilia's about twenty minutes, chatting 



222 RE VOL UTIONA R Y SKE TCHES. 

on various subjects, so as to save my hosts from the neces 
sity of opening their mouths. 

When I took leave Emilia showed me to the door, mut- 
tering by way of apology, " I was so terrified." 

Directly we started, Boiko began to laugh at me. 

'' Well, did I not advise you not to go ? With your 
" Quick, quick," and he laughingly imitated my voice. I 
replied, but not without any annoyance, that it was no mat- 
ter, that I was very glad I had gone to see her, etc. 

Meanwhile, a very urgent question presented itself, 
that of my night's lodging. 

It was already too late to find one, for it was by no 
means an easy matter. Directly I arose my first thought 
was always to find a night's lodging, and in this search I 
usually spent my entire day. 

But this time, owing to my approaching meeting with 
Emilia, I had not thought about it. 

" I shall have to pass the night in the street," I said. 
Boiko would not hear of it, and puzzled his brains in think- 
ing: where he could take me. But he could not think of 
any place. 

Being, with regard to politics, as innocent as a new- 
born babe, he had only friends just as innocent, and there- 
fore excessively timid. Rack his brains as he might, he 
could not think of any place to which I could go. 

" Come to my house," he said, at: last. 

I had known him as a child, and loved him as a brother; 
but I did not like the idea of passing the night in his room, 
especially as I knew he had only one. I began to raise 
objections, and spoke of the dvomiks; the servant and the 
landlady. 



A TRIP TO ST. PE TERSBUR GIL 223 

" Oh, that's nothing," he replied. " The landlady will 
not know about it, until to-morrow morning, the servant 
also. Don't mind them." 

"Not mind them! How do you mean ? Don't the 
dvorniks count for something ? They will let us enter, and 
afterwards go and inform the police.' 

4 Nothing of the kind,' repeated Boiko. 1 The dvorniks 
will not go and fetch the police ; they will merely think 
that " 

I told him to be silent, as the dvorniks would think 
nothing of the kind. Meanwhile, what was to be done ? 
To pass the night in the street was not only unpleasant 
but even dangerous, and there was nothing else left. I 
accepted. 

We passed close to the dvorniks without being interfered 
with, and they saluted us very politely, as it appeared to 
me. 

The landlady and the servant were asleep. We entered 
without being seen by them. I gave a sigh of relief. 

"We have succeeded in passing all the barriers," I 
said to my host ; " but that amounts to nothing. The 
dvornik will go and fetch the police." 

He declared they would not do so and, to divert me, 
told me that on one occasion, having to work till a, late 
hour with a friend, also a professor, he invited him to pass 
the night there. " One day, however," he went on, " the 
head dvornik began to abuse me because I harbored vaga- 
bonds without passports. 'Yes,' I said to him, ' and 
not one only, but many, and I shall be very much obliged 
to you if you will drive them all away.' The dvornik 



324 RE V0L UTIONAR Y SKE TCIIES. 

stared. I showed him a swarm of beetles. * Here,' I 
continued, 'here are my vagabonds, residing here with- 
out passports. Look what a lot there are. As to my 
friend, he is a black beetle with an authenticated and reg- 
istered passport.' The dvomik laughed, and the matter 
ended there." 

We should have been glad to pass the whole night 
chatting, but we were compelled to blow out the candle as 
the window looked out upon the courtyard, and the light 
might have made the dvomik suspect something revolu- 
tionary was going on. 

The bed was given up tome, Boiko stretched himself 
upon the floor ; he took off his coat and waistcoat. I got 
into bed with all my clothes on, without even taking off 
my cuffs and collar, and as his pillows smelt of tobacco, I 
had even to wrap up my head in my black scarf. 

" If the police came to-night," I thought to myself, " I 
should not keep them waiting long." 

V. 

I should like now to say a few words respecting the 
other section of Russian society, which, owing to my posi- 
tion, I frequented much more ; I mean the students, not yet 
enrolled among the conspirators — for of those already in 
the ranks it would be impossible to say too much. 

Had I not the evidence of my own eyes, I should have 
difficulty in believing that in the same city, within so short 
a distance, such striking contrasts could exist as are pre- 
sented between the peaceful middle classes and the Russian 
young men. 



A TRIP TO ST. PETERSBURG!!. 225 

I will merely relate what I have seen and heard. 

Civil courage, in which the maturer portion of Russian 
society is entirely wanting, is only to be found among the 
young. 

It is strange, but it is perfectly true. 
Here is a notorious fact, which for many days was in 
every mouth. 

In the Academy of Medicine, one of the students, a 
" Viscount," as they called him, took it into his head to 
start a collection for a crown of flowers to be placed upon 
the coffin of the dead Emperor. 

This proposal was received in utter silence. The Vis- 
count flung five roubles into his hat, and then went about 
from one to another. Nobody gave him even a kopeck 

" But, gentlemen," asked the Viscount, " what shall 
we do then ? " 

" Attend Professor Mergeevski's lecture," said a voice 
among the throng. 

But he would not give in, and continued to go about 
pestering everybody. At last he succeeded in finding 
somebody who put two more roubles into his hat. The 
lecture of Professor Mergeevski being over, the Viscount 
went about again and urged them to subscribe. But he 
obtained nothing more. 

H But what shall we do, then, gentlemen ? " he cried, 
in despair. 

" Attend the lecture of Professer " I do not recol- 
lect the name. 

This second lecture passed off. Then the Viscount 
resolved to put his companions in a fix. 



22 6 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

Throwing the money upon the table, he exclaimed • 

"What shall I do with this money ? " 

" Give it to the prisoner," replied a voice among the 
throng, which everybody present echoed. 

The Viscount and his companion hurried away in a 
fury. 

One of the students then arose, took the money which 
remained upon the table, and no one doubted that the fa- 
mous seven roubles were sent to those who were entitled 
to them. 

The same day the students of the Academy collected 
fifty roubles for " the prisoners." 

This happened some days after the event of March 13, 
when the whole population was delirious with terror. 

In the other higher schools the conduct of the students 
was similar, but not identical ; for only those who were in 
Russia at that time can understand what courage was re- 
quired to act as the students of the Academy of Medicine 
acted. 

What is so striking in the life of the great mass of the 
Russian students, is the slight account taken of personal 
interests connected with their profession, their future, etc., 
and even of the pleasures which are said to "grace the 
morning of life." 

It would seem as though the Russian students cared 
only for intellectual interest. 

Their sympathy with the Revolution is immense, uni- 
versal, almost undivided. 

They give their last farthing for the " Narodnaia Volia' 
and for ':■>•• Red Cross ; that is, for the prisoners and ex- 



A TRIP TO ST PETERSBURG//. 227 

iles. All take an active part in the organization of con- 
certs and balls, in order to obtain, by the sale of tickets, 
some few roubles to assist the Revolution. Man)'- endure 
hunger and cold in order to give their mite to the " cause." 
I have known whole Communes* which lived upon nothing 
but bread and soup, so as to give all their savings to the 
Revolution. 

The Revolution may be said to be the principal and 
absorbing interest of these young men, and it should be 
borne in mind that when arrests, trials, executions happen, 
they lose the privilege of continuing their studies. 

They meet in little parties in their rooms, and- there, 
around the samovar, whisper, discuss, and communicate to 
each other their views and their feelings of indignation, of 
horror, and of admiration, and thus their revolutionary 
fervor increases, and is strengthened. That is the time to 
see them ; their faces become anxious and serious, exact- 
ly like those of elderly men. 

They grasp with avidity at everything, at ever} 7 trifle 
connected with the revolutionary world. The rapidity with 
which even-thing new of this kind spreads throughout the 
entire city is incredible. The telegraph, which the Gov- 
ernment has in its hands, cannot vie with the legs of the 
Nihilists. Somebody is arrested, perhaps. The very next 
day the melancholy news is disseminated throughout the 
whole of St. Petersburgh. Somebody has arrived ; some 
one else is making disclosures ; a third, on the other hand, 
maintains an exemplar} 7 firmness towards the police ; all 

this is known immediately and everywhere. 

* This is the name given by the students to a kind of phalanstery 
in which a certain number of young men share everything in common. 



228 REVOLUTIONARY SKETCHES. 

It need scarcely be added that, animated by such feel- 
ings, these young men are always ready to render every 
kind of service to the Revolutionists, without giving a 
thought to the danger they may run. And with what ar- 
dor, with what solicitude they act ! 

But I must finish. I have not the slightest pretension 
to depict the young men of Russia as they are ; it would 
be a task much above my power. 

I return, therefore to my peregrination. 

It was from these young men I had all my night's lodg- 
ings when the worthy Madame Dubrovina and a few other 
friends could no longer conceal me in their houses. 

But here I cannot pass by in silence another circum- 
stance. 

Having received the invitation I went, and, although 
in accordance with the rules of Nihilist hospitality, no ques- 
tions respecting myself were ever put to me, L always be- 
gan the same old story, that I had nothing whatever to do 
with the conspiracy, that I was not even one of the " illegal," 
but merely a " vagabond," as I had no passport, and did 
not care to get a false one. I said this to tranquillize my hosts, 
and so as not to appear in borrowed plumes, and even, I 
must confess it, in the hope that I should be invited another 
time. 

But to my great astonishment, my words never produced 
the desired effect. Notwithstanding that I am short-sight- 
ed, I could discern upon their faces a slight expression of 
disappointment, which seemed to say : " What ! nothing 
more ? " 

And they never invited me to return a second time. At 



A TRIP TO ST. PE TERSB URGH. 229 

first this vexed me, but afterwards I laughed at it, and be- 
came accustomed to my lot, that of passing the whole day 
in search of a lodging for the night. 

I observed that, generally speaking, the more the 
Revolutionist is feared and sought after by the police the 
more readily is he welcomed, concealed, and everything 
done for him. In the first place, a man who belongs to the 
organization always has something interesting to relate ; 
then, to conceal him gives more satisfaction ; for, to assist 
a man of great importance is, in a sense, to display revolu- 
tionary " activity." Finally, there is also the honor. This 
counts for not a little. A young man of a rich middle-class 
family said to me one day : 

" Do you know we have a sofa, and easy chair, and a 
seat upon which Geliaboff and Perovskaia sat. We shall 
never part with them," he added, " for all these things are 
" historical." 

VI. 

From these placid regions let us pass anew to the fiery 
zone of the Revolution. 

I remember it was on a Tuesday. At four o'clock pre- 
cisely, notwithstanding the most horrible weather, I was 
waiting at the railway station to meet Varia, who was com- 
ing expressly to see Tania (Lebedeva).* I shall be asked, 
perhaps, why I went to meet her ? It was for this reason : 
when any one comes to St. Petersburg, the greatest difficulty 
is to know where to go ; which friend is arrested and 

* Implicated in the Odessa railway attempt. One of the two women 
condemned to death in the last trial, that of the 22. 



230 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

which not : whose house can be visited without falling in- 
to a trap set by the police. For these reasons, it is always 
useful and encouraging to be met by somebody at the sta- 
tion. 

I wished to rendered this service to Varia. But unfor- 
tunately she did not come. It was arranged between us 
that, in this case, I should keep the appointment with 
Tania. Two hundred roubles intended for her, which had 
been deposited with Madame Dubrovina, had to be hand- 
ed over to her. I went there, and having obtained the 
money, kept the appointment, hoping that with this sum 
Tania would be able to go into the country, or perhaps 
abroad. 

When I entered the room, Tania, together with Slo- 
budina, her hostess, exclaimed with one voice : 
" Where is Varia ? " 

The news that she had not come greatly agitated Tania. 
She turned pale, and for several minutes could not utter a 
word. 

I lost no time *.n giving her the two hundred roubles. 
But she told me she wanted eighty more, otherwise she 
could not leave, as the two hundred were intended for an- 
other purpose. 

The same day Michael was arrested, not in his own 
house, but while keeping an appointment. This money, as 
I learnt afterwards, she intended for the mother of Michael, 
who lived in the Caucasus, to enable her to come to St. 
Petersburg. 

I told her the matter could be arranged. Madame 



A TRIP TO ST. PETERSBURG!!. 231 

Dubrovinahad always small sums of money by her, collected 
for the Revolution, and I could go and get some of it. 

" Yes," she said, " it is necessary. But it is better that 
Slobodina should go, because I have something to communi- 
cate to you. Meanwhile, tell us whether you have not 
been followed." 

Both began to ask me whether there had been nothing 
suspicious in the street, at the door, or upon the stair- 
case. 

I said I had seen nothing ; but, as I was short-sighted, 
I added, my powers of observation were not to be trusted. 

c< I am sure there was something, though you have seen 
nothing at all," exclaimed Tania, with a gesture of impa- 
tience. 

Then she related to me what follows : 

" I had no sooner left the house than I saw I was fol- 
lowed by a spy. I took the first likhac* I met. The spy 
had to take an ordinary cab, and for a moment lost sight 
of me. But at the corner of the Basseinaia, the tramway 
stopped the traffic, and the spy, regaining lost ground, was 
at hand ready to pounce on me. When my likhac moved 
on again, the spy gave a whistle, and another person 
jumped into the vehicle. I ordered the likhac to go to the 
Ligovka. then to Peski, then to St. Michael the Archangel, 
in a word, I was, driven in various directions for at least 
an hour. Having assured myself that they had lost sight 
of me, I stopped before a tobacconist's and entered it, in 
order to change a bank note and purchase a packet of ci- 
garettes. When I left the shop, the likhac was by itself, and 
* The name given to superior cabs with excellent horses 



232 RE VOL UTIONA R Y SICE TCHES. 

there was nobody in the street. I then dismissed my cab 
and came here on foot. I am not, however, sure that I 
was not followed." 

Then she related to me what she knew about the arrest 
of Michael. As they both lived together in the same lodg- 
ing, it was almost a miracle the police had not arrested 
her also. 

Having heard all this, and knowing her antecedents, I 
begged her to leave St. Petersburgh immediately. 

" No, it is impossible." replied Tania, pensively as 
though speaking to herself. " The lodging must be 
cleared." * 

" Cannot I clear it ? " I asked. 

She shook her head without replying to me. 

Thereupon I told her that if she could not trust to my 
discretion to clear the room for her, she was wrong ; and I 
assured her that I would not read, or even look at any- 
thing, on any account whatever. I remember that our 
discussion almost ended in a quarrel. 

To say the truth I had a horrible fear f of going into 
their terrible den ; but I had a still greater fear of letting 
Tania go there, for the hangman's halter was already 
round her neck. This emboldened me to repeat my ur- 
gent appeals. 

" Perhaps we could go together," I said. " Two would 
clear the place very quickly, and we could go away quietly," 

* In the language of the Nihilists, a to clear " means to destroy or 
take away all papers and everything compromising. 

t I have retained the whole of this passage exactly as it was written 
and I ask the lady's pardon, not the reader's. 



A TRIP TO ST. PETERSBURG!!. 233 

" No it is impossible. Especially as I must pass the 
night there." 

At these words my hair stood on end. I implored her 
not to do so. I felt convinced she would undoubtedly be 
arrested. It seemed to me that in her despair she would 
go to her own destruction. 

For a moment I fancied she would yield to me. She 
remained thoughtful ; I began to hope. 

" No, it is impossible," she said at last. " If I did not 
sleep at home, the dvomik, who comes at seven o'clock 
every morning with the water, finding nobody, would im- 
mediately go and inform the police. Spies will be placed 
at all the stations, and I shall undoubtedly be arrested. 
I cannot leave to-day without first seeing " ours." I must 
pass the night at home." 

I cannot describe my despair. 

I proposed to her that I should go and pass the night in 
place of her. Next day, when the dvomik came, I would 
open the door to him, and say that she had been taken ill, and 
that I had been fetched to attend her. He certainly would 
not go into her bedroom to convince himself. 

But Tania rejected this proposal. I do not know from 
what motive. She, however, agreed that I should assist 
her the next day in clearing out. 

We arranged all the details, and the appointment was 
fixed for ten o'clock precisely at the Moghlilevskaia. 

She wanted to go to Moscow, and as her friends in that 
city could not be informed beforehand, she would have to 
stop at some hotel. For this, she would need a portman- 
teau, something to eat, some linen, etc., so that no suspicion 



234 RE V0L UTIONA R Y SATE TCHES. 

might be aroused at the hotel where she stopped. I was 
to purchase all these things the following morning, and 
take them to Slobodina's 

Tania asked me to spend as little as possible, and would 
not let me buy her some new gloves, and a bonnet, 
although her own was an old one. A black crape veil, a 
sign of mourning, would cover up everything. 

When the details were arranged, there came the 
question of the order in which we should leave the house. 
Tania said it appeared to her that it would be better to 
show ourselves in the street both together. A woman who 
is alcne they keep their eyes on. Seeing two together 
might confuse them. We left. We had scarcely advanced 
a few steps, when a cabman drove up and was very anxious 
to take us. 

Tania said to me in a whisper, M He is a spy, I know 
him, you will see what difficulty we shall have in getting 
away from him." For tea minutes, in fact, he would not 
go away. 

After many turnings we found a cab with a driver 
dozing. Tania took the cab and departed. It was already 
late in the evening when we separated. I was compelled 
to go to the place where I was to have my night's lodging 
for to present one's self too late was not permitted. I took 
a cab and went straight to the house indicated to me. I 
found it by the description. Naturally enough the dvornik 
was seated at the door. It was not permitted either to ask 
anything or to look at the number of the house. Such was 
the regulation. I entered resolutely, without, however, being 
sure, owing to my short-sight, that it was the house indicated 



A TRIP TO ST. PETERSBURG!!. 235 

to me. On reaching the second story I saw three doors. 
In the profound darkness I could recognize nothing, and 
with a trembling heart, I rang the first bell at haphazard. 

Great was my joy when, to the question inevitable them 
which I put to the servant, whether such-a-one lived there, 
I saw a handsome woman appear, who said to me • 

" Yes, yes, it is here. Pray come in." 

The next morning, at the hour fixed, I entered the Mog- 
hilevskaia. I had not yet had time to reach the position 
assigned to me, when I saw Tania in front of me, with a 
basketful of vegetables in her hand, and a black scarf round 
her head, such as housewifes wear when they go to market. 

We proceeded toward her house. She gave me the key 
of her door, and told me to go in the front, so that the 
dvornik should not see us enter together. 

I did so. 

The lodging comprised two rooms and a kitchen. I 
was struck by the perfect order which everywhere prevailed, 
the furniture, the little parlor, the husband's writing-table, 
all had an inviting aspect. Nothing was wanting. It 
seemed a perfect little nest of peace and joy. 

Tania entered a few minutes afterwards, bringing with 
her the provisions for the dinner, and lit the fire. All this 
was done for mere appearance sake — for the dvornik. 
Then she packed up the things she was to take away, tak- 
ing only those which would not be missed, so as not to 
arouse the suspicions of the dvornik in case he should 
enter during her absence by means of the double keys 
which the dvorniks possess.* 

* The doorkeepers or dvorndks, who have to act as sentinels, night 



236 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

Before allowing me to leave, she looked into the court- 
yard to see what the dvorniks were doing. They were cut- 
ting wood. 

Tania explained to me that I could pass through the 
courtyard unobserved when they took the wood to some 
tenant living upstairs. 

I did so, and left without any difficulty, with a rather 
large parcel in my hand, and having taken a cab, went to 
Slobodina's. 

Having packed the portmanteau, I went to the station. 
I was to take the tickets, deliver up the luggage, and do 
everything, so that Tania should show herself as little as 
possible. She was not to arrive until ten minutes before 
the departure of the train, so as to go at once and take 
her place in the carriage. But unfortunately the train was 
crowded with passengers. There was no room left, and 
another carriage had to be put on. We passed five minutes 
upon the platform, which seemed to me an age. 

At last the carriage was attached. Tania took her 
place, and the compartment was soon filled with people. 
But they were uninteresting. Tania expressed her regret 
that she had not brought some book with her to read. I 
gave her a newspaper I had in my pocket, and told her 
that at the first large station she would be able to buy one. 
I showed her the oranges, which she was very fond of, I 

and day, at the doors of the houses, and closely watch everything, 
form a numerous class of parasites, whom the landlords are compelled 
to maintain. They are the terror of all the peaceful inmates, includ- 
ing the landlords, for they know they will always be backed up by 
the authorities. Their arrogance is such that in Moscow the dvorniks 
of one house gave the landlord himself a thrashing. 



A TRIP TO ST. PETERSBURG!!. 237 

had expressly put in her bag ; but in a whisper I recom- 
mended her not to smoke during the journey. 

She smiled, thanked me for the oranges, and said that, 
with regard to the smoking, she could not promise. 

On leaving, when the guard called out, I uttered, I do 
not know why, some unconnected remarks. 

" Remember me to all at home. Kiss the little ones 
for me," etc. 

The train left, and I gave a sigh of relief. 

She reached Moscow and remained there a short time. 
Several letters, sent by her from that city, were received, 
one of which I read. She told us in it that there was 
nothing for her to do in Moscow, that she was utterly sick 
of the place, and ardently desired to return to St. Peters- 
burg. 

She returned, in fact ; but I was no longer there. Be- 
ing invited by a friend who had a landed estate in one of 
the provinces of the Volga, I left in order to proceed there ; 
with what joy I need not say. 

Four months having elapsed since that terrible 13th of 
March, and calmness being somewhat restored, I suc- 
ceeded, through my friend's husband, in obtaining a regu- 
lar passport : and thus ended my Odyssey. 



CONCLUSION. 



I have briefly related the history of the Russian Revo- 
lutionary movement. My principal endeavor has been to 
depict its chief features, which are known to but few out- 
side the organization. 

Before taking leave of the reader, I should like now to 
cast a retrospective glance upon the movement as a whole, 
of which I have described some of the details only. 

What renders the Russian Revolutionary party entirely 
different from all those which at various times have strug- 
gled against oppression, is not the means it adopts — for in 
case of need they might be adopted by all — but its posi- 
tion towards the Government and the country. In this 
respect it stands quite alone, and resembles nothing in the 
history of other nations. 

The Russian Revolutionary movement is really a Rev- 
olution sui generis, carried on, however, not by the mass of 
the people or those feeling the need of it, but by a kind of 
delegation, acting on behalf of the mass of the people 
with this purpose. 

No one has ever undertaken, and perhaps no one could 
with any certainty, undertake to calculate ■ the numerical 
strength of this party, that is to say, of those who share 
the convictions and the aspirations of the Revolutionists. 



CONCLUSION. 239 

All that can be said is, that it is a very large party, and 
that, at the present moment, it numbers hundreds of 
thousands, perhaps even millions of men, disseminated 
everywhere. This mass of people, which might be called 
the " Revolutionary nation," does not, however, take a 
direct part in the struggle. It entrusts its interests and 
its honor, its hatred and its vengeance, to those who 
make the Revolution their sole and exclusive occupa- 
tion ; for, under the conditions existing in Russia, 
people cannot remain as ordinary citizens and devote 
themselves, at the same time, to Socialism and the Revolu- 
tion. 

The real Revolutionary party, or rather the militant 
organization, is recruited from among this class of Revo- 
lutionary leaders. 

This organization is limited. Nay, more ; it always 
has been, and will always be, while the present conditions 
of the struggle last : this is a confession I have no hesita- 
tion in making, and it may serve the reader as an illustra- 
tion of my sincerity. 

In Russia the struggle is entirely and exclusively 
carried on by means of conspiracies. Macchiavelli is 
right when he says with respect to all secret societies, that 
"the many ruin them." By the very conditions, inherent 
in conspiracy, the more the number of the affiliated in- 
creases, the greater becomes the danger of discovery. 
This is a law which, although it cannot be reduced to 
exact mathematical expression, is, notwithstanding, as 
indisputable as the mechanic laws. Every one who has 
belonged to any conspiracy, or has read much on the 



2 4 o RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

subject, knows this. I need not, therefore, insist on the 
point. 

But in Russia there are some special conditions which 
render this law still more imperious. I speak of the 
material difficulties which have to be overcome, and 
especially of the immense expense which has to be incurred, 
in order to keep up the militant organization. 

The sums spent on the various Terrorist undertakings, 
although very modest compared with the work done, reach) 
nevertheless, a considerable amount. But they are 
nothing, really nothing, compared with the sums which the 
organization has to spend daily merely to maintain 
existence. Leading such a troubled life as the Russian 
Revolutionists lead, with their continual changes of dress, of 
place of lodgings — lodgings and furniture having frequently 
to be abandoned, and others obtained elsewhere, only to be 
abandoned, perhaps, in turn a week afterwards — leading 
this life, the expense of the struggle evidently must in- 
crease beyond measure. Thus it is that the " Revolution, 
ary nation" is only able to maintain a militant organization, 
relatively limited, with regard to numbers. 

This process of limitation is certainly not due to set 
purpose. It arises of itself, in a very simple, although 
in a very cruel manner ; that is to say, by the killing oft 
of the superfluous. The office of executioner is naturally 
taken by the Government. 

By a tendency inherent in every political Secret So- 
ciety, the Revolutionary organization endeavors to ex- 
tend itself ; to attract an ever-increasing number of 
persons ; to spread its ramifications far and wide. When 



CONCLUSION. 241 

once a certain point has been reached, however, means 
are wanting, and, as a consequence, there is an inevitable 
relaxation in the measure of security, combined with a 
certain relaxation of discipline, which always corresponds 
with the undue extension of the secret Society. The 
inevitable result of this is a " disaster," a " deluge ; " 
some blood-letting by the Government. 

To show that the movement really follows this fatal 
course, I need only point out that every " deluge" has 
fallen upon us at the very moment when the organization 
was most flourishing. Every Russian who has been in any 
way connected with it will admit this fact. 

The arrests certainly do not merely curtail what may 
be called the redundancy of the organization. They al- 
ways go beyond that. They are like hot words — one 
leads to another. 

But here is another fact, eminently characteristic. 
However great may be the partial reverse inflicted upon 
the organization, the Government can never succeed in 
destroying it entirely. Some of it still remains standing, 
and keeps up its old traditions and connections. Thus, 
some two months after the most terrible " deluge," the 
organization is formed anew, as though nothing had 
happened ; for meanwhile a little " levy" has been made ; 
fresh champions enter in place of the fallen, and the 
equilibrium being re-established between numbers and 
material means, together with discipline, the organization 
remains intact for awhile, continuing thus the struggle, 
momentarily interrupted, until, having unduly increased 



2 42 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

again, by a tendency unavoidable in an active society, t 
fresh " deluge" comes, and some more bloodletting. 

Thus the organization, although it may increase a.- 
the strength of the party increases, which is undeniable 
always remains very modest with regard to numbers. 

II 

In speaking of Secret Societies, the Florentine Secretary 
not only says that " the many ruin them," but also that 
" the few are not enough." 

That in Russia the few are " enough," and in a some- 
what terrible manner, needs no proof of mine here. 

How, therefore, is this extraordinary fact to be ex- 
plained ? 

It is explained by the devotion, by the moral eleva- 
tion, by the energy of these heroic combatants, as I have 
endeavored to show in my book. 

But this would not suffice, some will urge, to sustain 
for so many years such a terrible struggle. Miracles of 
heroism would be needed. Now miracles no longer be- 
long to our days, or at least nobody believes in them. 
How does it happen, therefore ? There must be some- 
thing else below the surface. 

This something is the almost complete isolation of 
the Russian Government. 

Autocracy in the latter part of the Nineteenth Century 
in a country in constant communication with Europe, 
where the cultivated classes receive a thoroughly European 
education — autocracy in such a country is so monstrous 
that, except those having a personal interest in it, no one 



CONCLUSION. 243 

certainly, can honestly defend it. Hence arises a covert 
opposition almost universal among all classes of society, 
however little educated ; an opposition which, notwith- 
standing the rigors of the Censorship and the arbitrary 
acts of the administration, manifests itself in a manner so 
clear and palpable, that one must turn a deaf ear indeed, 
as the Imperial Government does, not to hear something 
about it. We have but to read the addresses of the Pro- 
vincial Assemblies (Zemstvos), and to examine the Russian 
newspapers of the last few years, to convince ourselves 
how ardently the whole of Russian society longs for cer- 
tain political rights, such as freedom of speech and of the 
press, the inviolability of the subject, and of the domicile, 
the national representation — everything, in short, expressed 
in that very modest word, Constitution. 

Now in the programme of the Russian Socialists of 
the last five years, as I have said in my Introduction, a 
very important change appears. Having begun by main- 
taining with the extreme party of the " Internationale " 
called the Anarchical party, that the Socialists should ab 
stain from all participation in the political struggle, the 
Russian Socialists, by the inexorable logic of events, have 
had to learn, at their own expense, that political liberty is 
not only useful, but indispensable for the Socialist, as for 
every one who has any convictions to enforce, or any ideas 
to propagate among his fellow citizens. They have had to 
recognize that, without these elementary rights, Socialism 
will never emerge beyond the narrow limits of the Secret 
Societies, and will never be able to exercise a decisive in- 
fluence upon the convictions of the masses. 



2 44 RE V0L UTIOKAR Y SKE TCHES. 

There being no other party in Russia capable of engag- 
ing in the struggle with Despotism, the Russian Socialists 
resolved to undertake it on their own account. As in Rus- 
sia, as I have shown in my Introduction, an insurrection in 
the European manner is absolutely impossible, the Socialists 
had recourse to Terrorism ; to a conflict with the autocrat 
in person, in order to render his life a torment and a weari- 
ness to him, and his position intolerable, shameful, ridicu- 
lous ; so that from very dread of the derision cast upon 
his pretended unlimited power, he should resolve to yield 
to the legitimate and very modest aspirations of the entire 
nation. 

The aspiration of the Socialists, and those of the 
whole of Russian society met, thus, at this point, and the 
Terrorists did nothing more than proclaim aloud, amid the 
reports and flames of their explosions, what everybody 
either thought, or whispered with a hesitating and timid 
voice, amid a deluge of adulation and general compulsory 
reticence. 

What the Revolutionists could not but gain from this 
condition of things may easily be imagined. They acquired 
the inestimable moral advantage which the support of pub- 
lic opinion gives. Among the more courageous, this sup- 
port was certainly not confined to words alone. 

But even those who were opposed to them, fearing 
their subversive principles, would not in any way lend their 
support to the Government, though it might ask for such 
support in almost supplicating tones. The reply which, 
after every fresh attempt, Russian Society gave through 
the Provincial Assemblies and the Press to these repeated 



CONCLUSION. 245 

supplications was always the same : " We are ready to as- 
sist you against the Socialists, but give us for this the 
necessary means, that is, freedom of speech and a national 
representation ; then we will willingly clear the ground for 
you. Until we possess these means, we are powerless to 
do anything for you." The reply, to say the truth, was 
not a very noble one, but I give it exactly as it was formu- 
lated. 

The Government did not agree to these terms, and gave 
it to be understood that the assistance it required from so- 
ciety was simply that of acting the part of the spy. 

But society would not agree to this. 

The Government remained thus completely isolated, 
and in this manner the struggle between it and the Ter- 
rorists, though always terribly unequal, is not so much so 
as might be believed at a distance. 

This is the secret which explains quite naturally the 
miracle of the Terroristic struggle. 

If the Government were not in such flagrant contra- 
diction with society, such a struggle would be absolutely 
impossible ; for society would not remain indifferent, but 
would act as one man against the disturbers of its quiet, 
and crush them in an instant. 

One thing is as clear as the sun at noonday. Where 
do the Terrorists live, if not in the ranks of society ? With 
whom are they in daily communication, if not with its mem- 
bers ? If they were mere ordinary delinquents who dis- 
turbed public order for their own advantage, society would 
hand them over, bound hand and foot, to the representa- 
tives of power. If it had scruples about doing this, it would 



2 46 VOL UTIONA R Y SKE TCHES. 

have suppressed them all the same, simply by withdrawing 
from them its assistance. Where would the Terrorists ob- 
tain means ? Where would they hide themselves ? Where 
would they obtain reinforcements ? I do not speak of the 
weigh: of the disapproval, universal, sincere, and resolute, 
which would be decisive in a question bound up with the 
most direct interests of society itself, of which it cannot be 
said as of the people, that it does not understand what it 
says or does. But for what purpose should Russian so- 
ciety assist a Government detested by everybody ? Thus, 
notwithstanding its compulsory protests of devotion, society 
remains with its arms folded, to see what the Terrorists 
will do. In secret it rubs its hands, and not only does not 
denounce the Terrorists, but willingly assists them, if not 
restrained by fear, because it feels that they are working 
for its own advantage. 

The isolation of the Russian Government can only be 
compared with that of a hated foreigner in a conquered 
country. The best proof of this is, as I have already said, 
its inability to overcome the Terrorists. To illustrate 
this, however, I will relate a few little incidents of revolu- 
tionary life. 

It must be admitted, to begin with, that, as conspir- 
ators, the Russian Revolutionists, with few exceptions, are 
not worth much. The Russian disposition, generous, list- 
less, undisciplined ; the love of openness ; the habit of 
doing everything in "common" render it little adapted to con- 
form to the vital principle of conspiracy ; to tell what is to be 
told only to those to whom it is essential to tell it and not to 
those to whom it may merely be told without danger. Ex- 



CONCL US ION. 2 47 

amples such as Perovskaia or Stefanovic are very rare 
among the Russian s>. Thus, the revolutionary secrets are 
usually very badly kept, and no sooner have they passed 
out of the organization than they spread abroad with incredi- 
ble rapidity throughout the Nihilist world, and not unf re- 
quently pass from city to city. Notwithstanding this, the 
Government never knows anything. 

Thus, before the publication of the newspaper " Zemlia 
i Volia," conducted by " illegal" men, a secret Revolu- 
tionary and Socialist journal was issued in St. Peters- 
burg, — "Nacialo," which was not the organ of the organ- 
ization, but of an isolated " Circle," and its conductors 
were four or five " legal" men. All St. Petersburg knew 
them, and could name them. But the police, although they 
were run off their legs in search of traces of this newspaper, 
knew nothing, and never learnt anything about it ; so that 
some of the conductors of the paper, who have not been 
compromised in other matters, remain safe and sound to 
this day. 

The sale of the most terrible of the Terrorist papers, the 
" Narodnaia Volia," is carried on in St. Petersburg in 
the most simple manner imaginable ; in every higher school, 
in every class of society, and in all the principal provincial 
towns, there are men, known to everybody, who under- 
take this commission ; and receiving a certain number of 
the copies of the paper, sell it to everybody who wants it, 
at twenty-five kopecks the number, in St. Petersburg, and 
thirty-five in the provinces. 

Here is another fact, which will seem much more 
strange, but which, notwithstanding, is perfectly true. 



2 48 RE VOL UTIONA R Y SKE TCIIES. 

The immense dynamite conspiracy, organized by the 
Executive Committee in 1879, f° r tne Emperor's journey 
to and from St. Petersburg and the Crimea, perhaps the 
greatest undertaking ever organized by a Secret Society : 
this conspiracy was on too grand a scale to be carried out 
by the forces of the organization ; outsiders had therefore 
to be taken from that vast world around it which is always 
ready to render it any kind of service. It is not to be 
wondered at that, with so many people, the secret of the 
attempts in preparation should leak out, and quickly spread 
throughout all Russia. The precise places were not known, 
certainly ; but every student, every barrister, every writer not 
in the pay of the police, knew that " the Imperial train would 
be blown up during the journey from the Crimea to St. 
Petersburg." It was talked about " everywhere," as the 
phrase runs. In one city a subscription was even got up, 
almost publicly, for this purpose, and about 1,500 roubles 
were collected, all of which were paid into the coffers of the 
Committee. 

Yet the police knew nothing . Of the six attempts be- 
longing to that period, one alone was discovered, that of 
Logovenco, by mere chance. The arrest of Goldenberg with 
a supply of dynamite, which also occurred by mere chance, 
at the Elisabetgrad Station, was the circumstance which 
aroused suspicion that something was in preparation, and 
caused precautions to be taken in the arrangements of the 
trains. 

These facts and others of the same kind, which I could 
multiply indefinitely, give an idea, it appears to me, of the 



CONCLUSION. 249 

respective positions of the Government and the Revolu- 
tionists. 

The Terrorists have before them, not a Government in 
the European sense of the word— for then,owing to the dispro- 
portion of strength, the struggle would be impossible — but 
a camarilla, a small and isolated faction, which represents 
only its own interests, and is not supported by any class of 
society. 

Thus the struggle, although extremely difficult, becomes 
possible, and may last for years and years. 

III. 

What will be the end ? 

That depends upon the line of conduct adopted by the 
Government. 

One thing is evident ; it will never succeed in putting 
down the Terrorism by retaliation. Precisely because they 
are few, the Terrorists will remain invincible. A victory 
obtained over a Revolution like that of Paris, gives to the 
conqueror at least ten or fifteen years of peace ; for with a 
hundred thousand victims, all that is noblest, most gener- 
ous, and boldest in a nation is exterminated, and it languishes 
until a fresh generation arises to avenge its slaughtered 
father. But what avails in a country like Russia, the 
loss of a handful of men, which from time to time, the Govern- 
ment succeeds in snatching from the ranks of the organiza- 
tion ? 

The survivors will continue the struggle with an ardor 
increased by the desire of vengeance. The universal discon- 
tent will provide them with pecuniary means. The young 



250 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

men, animated as they are by the example of so many 
heroes, are near to supply an immense and inexhaustible 
source of new recruits ; and the struggle will continue 
still more fiercely. 

But if the Terrorists cannot be overcome, how are they 
to overcome the Government ? 

A victory, immediate, splendid, and decisive, such as 
that obtained by an insurrection, is utterly impossible by 
means of Terrorism. But another victory is more probable, 
that of the weak against the strong, that of the "beggars" 
of Holland against the Spaniards. In a struggle against 
an invisible, impalpable, omnipresent enemy, the strong is 
vanquished, not by the arms of his adversary, but by the 
continuous tension of his own strength, which exhausts 
him, at last, more than he would be exhausted by defeats. 

Such is precisely the position of the belligerent parties 
in Russia. 

The Terrorists cannot overthrow the Government, 
cannot drive it from St. Petersburg and Russia ; but 
having compelled it, for so many years running, to neglect 
everything and do nothing but struggle with them, by forc- 
ing it to do so still for years and years, they will render 
its position untenable. Already the prestige of the Im- 
perial Government has received a wound which it will be 
very difficult to heal. An Emperor who shuts himself up 
in a prison from fear of the Terrorists, is certainly not a 
figure to inspire admiration. 

On this point I could already cite many things which 
circulate in the army, and among the people. What will 
be said if he remains shut up another year or two ? And 



CONCLUSION. 251 

how can he do otherwise than remain shut up if he con- 
tinues his policy ? 

But it is not on the moral side alone that the Govern- 
ment is the worse off. 

In this struggle between liberty and despotism, the 
Revolutionists, it must be confessed, have on their side 
an immense advantage, that of time. Every month, every 
week, of this hesitation, of this irresolution, of this en- 
ervating tension, renders the position of their adversary 
worse, and consequently strengthens their own. Hidden 
forces, unconscious and powerful as those of nature, come 
into play to undermine the basis of the Imperial edifice ; 
such as the economical position of the people, which has 
reached such a terrible crisis ; the financial question, and 
also that of the adminstrative corruption, which is almost 
as fatal as the other two. 

But the new Emperor wishes to improve the condition 
of the people. He strives to purge his Administration of 
robbery and corruption. 

Vain and ridiculous attempts ! nay, even hypocritical. 
Has not this been the golden dream of all the Emperors, 
commencing with Peter the Great ? Have not the same 
ukases against corruption been repeated in almost the 
same words ? Why have they not succeeded ? Because 
the Emperors wanted to do everything by themselves, that 
is, by means of this very bureaucracy, surrendering nothing 
whatever of their own autocratic power. 

The people themselves, rendered the arbitrators of 
their own destinies, can alone improve their own condition ; 
society having at its disposal a free Press can alone watch 



2 5 2 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

over and redress the abuses of the Administration. These 
are truths which every schoolboy knows. 

If none of the previous Emperors have been able to 
succeed under much better conditions, how can Alexander 
III. succeed under the present conditions ? 

Meanwhile the State is not waiting. The discontent 
increases ; the condition of the people grows worse ; the 
financial and administrative disorder increases. And the 
Terrorists paralyze the Government by their mere presence 
alone ; merely by giving signs of life from time to time. 

But they also know how to gain terrible victories, as 
they have clearly shown. 

The position is untenable, and the sooner the Govern- 
ment issues from it the better for the Government. 

By yielding to the legitimate requests of the nation, by 
conceding the most elementary political rights demanded 
by the times in which we live, and by civilization, every- 
thing will enter upon a peaceful and regular course. The 
Terrorists will be the first to throw down their deadly 
weapons, and take up the most humane, and the most 
powerful of all, those of free speech addressed to free men, 
as they have several times explicitly declared. * 

They will do so, and will be compelled to do so, for 
they would not be able to exist for a single day if, in a 
free country, they wished to continue the course hitherto 
followed. 

Such is the best solution of the present crisis in Rus- 
sia. 

*See in the Note the letter of the Executive Committee to Alex- 
ander III., which we recommend to the special attention of the 
reader. 



CONCLUSION. 253 

It remains to be seen whether the Government will 
have sufficient intelligence and moral courage to adopt 
this course. 

If it does not, what will happen ? 

It is difficult to foresee, for the Revolution, especially 
the Russian Revolution, is a strangely fantastic monster, 
and there are no means of divining where it will stop, or 
the leaps it may still take, if the whim seizes it. 

That the movement cannot stop is beyond all doubt. 
It has taken a development too great to end by bursting 
like a soap bubble. Its forces represented, not by the 
militant organization, which is only the external and tem- 
porary manifestation of them, but by the ardor of thou- 
sands upon thousands of men ; by the eager universal de- 
sire to issue from the shameful and humiliating position 
in which we have been placed by Despotism ; by the 
hatred, by the vengeance, by the revolutionary enthusiasm 
which the Government by its executions and its retalia- 
tion has succeeded in developing so powerfully among 
the flower of the nation, that is to say, the young men — 
these forces will need some outlet ; a necessity rather 
mechanical than philosophical. Men willing and able to 
direct them will always be found. 

Something assuredly will happen if the Revolution 
loses patience, or the hope of succeeding by the less fero- 
cious means which it has at its disposal — the present 
political terror. 

Of what nature it will be, it is impossible to foretell. 
Urged by a purely humane sentiment, I will point out 
some of the eventualities which present themselves to me 



254 RE V 0L UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

as probable, having regard to antecedent facts and the 
present disposition of the party ; my object simply being 
to enlighten public opinion and prevent, if possible, those 
painful eventualities from being realized. 

The first is what I should term Administrative terror, 
directed against the whole body of Government officials. 
The party has made a trial of this, but only partially, and 
the experiment rather assumed the character of a political 
demonstration without aiming at the overthrow of the Im- 
perial Administration by terror, and in this manner render- 
ing the Government powerless.* 

The effect would be certain, like that of laming the 
horse of a mediaeval knight, incapable of moving by his 
own exertions. In the year 1878, the party was too weak 
to undertake such a vast struggle. Now, being immensely 
strengthened, it could easily make the attempt. All Russia 
would then be strewn with dead bodies, for the Governors, 
the Gendarmes, the Procurators, the Judges, could not all 
have their Gatchina. It would be a terrible, a grievous 
thing ; but it has already been talked about. 

But there is another eventuality more terrible still, 
which has already been the subject of much " gossip," and 
the gossip of the Russian Revolutionary world is not to be 
laughed at, for it soon finds expression in acts. Thus, for 
two years there was gossip about the Terrorism, and 
throughout 1878 there was gossip about Czaricide. What 
followed everybody knows. 

There are whispers now of the agrarian Terror. The 

* It should, however, be pointed out that for some time at Kieff it 
really had this result. (See the Two Escapes.) 



CONCLUSION. 255 

agricultural class, the worst off, and the only very large 
class in Russia, is like a latent and mysterious volcano, 
upon the edge of which the oppressors are heedlessly 
dancing. By the irony of events this class sides, not with 
the Emperor, but with an Imperial myth, which is utterly 
unreal and therefore has no practical value. The peasant 
cherishes a profound and implacable hatred against the 
entire order of the State, which is simply the emanation of 
the power of the Emperor himself ; against the bureau- 
cracy ; against the landowners ; against the priests who 
have sworn fidelity to the Government ; against all the 
" lords," that is, those who dress in the " German," or 
European manner ; in a word, against everything which 
has caused him so many ages of suffering. This class is 
so desperate, so unfortunate, so miserable, that it only 
needs a spark to make its hatred burst out into an im- 
mense flame which would destroy the entire edifice of the 
State, and modern economical order, and with it, also, 
everything bearing the impress of civilization. It would 
be a universal cataclysm, terrible indeed, but still prefer- 
able to lingering death under the heels of Despotism. 

It must not be forgotten that all those who are now- 
struggling against autocracy, in order to obtain political lib- 
erty are Socialists. They have never ceased to earn' on the 
Socialist propaganda, secretly, among the working men of 
the towns. The proof that tneir efforts have not been un- 
availing is the considerable number of working men among 
those accused and convicted in the Terrorist trials of the 
last three years. Mostly, however, these working men, 
like their comrades of the cultivated classes, have hitherto 



2 5 6 RE VOL UTIONAR Y SKE TCHES. 

confined themselves to the exclusively political struggle 
with the Imperial Government, so as to render it possible 
to proceed afterwards to the social regeneration of the 
country, by peaceful and regular means. 

The present Terrorism has already done much to hasten 
the Revolution. But what will happen if these multi- 
tudes of men, ready for anything, should pour into the coun- 
try districts, armed with everything which the murderous 
science of the Nihilists and their revolutionary skill can 
supply them with, and commence a struggle, like that in 
Ireland, with the landlords and the absolutely defenceless 
officials of the rural police, summoning the people to the 
work of universal destruction ? 

Who can foresee, or rather, not foresee, the consequences 
of this Agrarian Terrorism, about which there has already 
been so much " gossip ? " 

Then, too, there are the Palace plots, and the Coups 
(T Etut of the military commanders. These certainly 
form a third eventuality, which may be concurrent with 
the other two, or even precede them. They are not 
directly connected with the Terrorism, but" are the 
natural consequence of it. Even now the Imperial Gov- 
ernment is the mere sport of Court factions ; a few 
years, a few months, perhaps, and fresh blows of the 
Terrorists will weaken it still more, and then in St. 
Petersburg, as in ancient Rome and Byzantium, as in 
every decaying despotic monarchy, there will arise among 
the courtiers and generals of the army, some modern 
Sejanus who will seek to profit by this to further his own 
ambition. Perhaps even sooner than is thought in Europe 



we shall see repeated in St. Petersburg the revolts of the 
Praetorians, or those of the Streltzi, to cite an illustration 
from our own history. Of what kind they will be, it is im- 
possible to foretell. Probably they will be of all kinds, If 
allied with the Nihilists, they will give liberty to the country ; 
if the instrument of the " Holy League," at the head of 
which is the Grand Duke Vladimir, already suspected of 
wishing to dethrone his brother, there will only be an ex- 
change of despots. In any case, it is more than probable 
that, with the sanguinary traditions established by the 
Terrorists, these convulsions will be anything rather than of 
a gentle character. Who knows whether they will n.ojj 
resemble Oriental rather than European convulsions ? 

Such is the sad future which the Emperor Alexander HI, 
with his insensate obstinacy, is preparing for Russia^ $nd 
for his own family, a future which ere long he himsejf wil^ 
be powerless to avert. 



NOTE. 

The important document published by the Executive Committee 
on March 10, (23) 188 1, that is to say, ten days after the Czar Alexan- 
der II. had been put to death, will serve as the best proof of what I 
have said respecting the actual aspirations of the Russian Revolu- 
tionary and Socialist party. It was reproduced in but few newspapers 
and not without some errors caused by the double translation from 
French or German. 

The reader will see how moderate are the conditions which these 
so-called sanguinary men offer to the Government, not for the cessa- 
tion of the struggle — for that would be mere hypocrisy, since no demo- 
cratic party, however moderate, can see in political liberty the univer- 
sal panacea for the evils which afflict the working classes — but for the 
complete abandonment of those violent and sanguinary means which 
the party is now compelled to adopt solely because the Govern- 
ment prevents it from employing pacific means to secure the emanci- 
pation of the largest and most unhappy class of mankind. 

THE EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE TO THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER III. 

" Your Majesty, — The Executive Committee thoroughly under- 
stands the mental prostration you must now be experiencing. It does 
not, however, consider that it should, from a feeling of delicacy, defer 
the following declaration. There is something higher even than legili- 
,rnate human feeling ; it is the duty towards our country, a duty to 
which every citizen should sacrifice himself, his own feelings, and even 
those of others. Impelled by this imperious duty, we address our- 
selves to you without delay, as the course of events which threatens 



260 NOTE. 

us with terrible convulsions, and rivers of blood in the future, will 

suffer no delay. 

"The sanguinary tragedy on the Catherine canal was no mere 
chance occurrence, and could have surprised no one. After what has 
happened during the last ten years, it appeared inevitable ; and there- 
in lies its profound significance, which should be thoroughly under- 
stood by him whom destiny has placed at the head of a State. 

a Only a man utterly incapable of analyzing the life of the people, 
can characterize such occurrences as the crimes of individuals, or 
even of a "band." During an entire decade, we have seen that the 
Revolutionary movement, notwithstanding the sternest persecution, 
notwithstanding the sacrifice by the late Czar's Government of every- 
thing, liberty, and the interests of all classes of the people, and of in- 
dustry, nay, even of its own personal dignity; notwithstanding, in a 
word, all the measures adopted to suppress it, the Revolutionary 
movement continued to increase ; the best forces of the country, the 
most energetic men in Russia, and the most willing to make sacrifices, 
came forward to swell its ranks. For three whole years the desperate 
war has lasted between it and the Government. 

" Your Majesty will admit that the Government of the late Em- 
peror cannot be accused of " want of energy." The innocent and 
the guilty were hanged alike ; the prisons, like the remotest prov- 
inces, were filled with the condemned. The so-called ' leaders ' 
were taken and hanged by the dozen. 

" They died tranquilly and with the calmness of martyrs ; but this 
did not stop the movement ; on the contrary, the movement increased 
and continually gained in strength. A Revolutionary movement, your 
Majesty, does not depend on individuals. It is a process of the social 
organism, and against it the gibbets erected for the most energetic 
representatives of that process are as powerless to save the existing 
order of things as the punishment of the cross, inflicted upon the 
Nazarene, was powerless to save the decaying ancient world from the 
triumph of reforming Christianity. 

" The Government may continue to arrest and hang as long as it 
likes, and may succeed in oppressing single Revolutionary bodies. 



NOTE. 261 

We will even admit that it may succeed in destroying the essential 
organization of the Revolution. But this will not change the state of. 
things. Revolutionists will be created by events ; by the general dis- 
content of the whole of the people ; by the tendency of Russia to- 
wards new social forms. 

" An entire nation cannot be suppressed ; and still less can the 
discontent of a nation be suppressed by rigorous measures. These, 
instead, will increase its bitterness, its energy, and its forces. The 
latter, naturally, will be better organized, profiting by the experience 
of those who have preceded them. Thus, with the progress of time, 
the Revolutionary organizations cannot but increase in number and in 
efficiency. This was precisely our case. What advantage did the 
Government derive from the suppression of the " Dolguscinzi," the 
" Ciaikovzi," the Propagandists of 1874? Other and more resolute 
leaders of the party came and took their places. 

"The rigors of the Government after 1878 and 1879 gave birth to 
the Terrorists. In vain the Government slaughtered Kovalsky, Du- . 
brovin, Ossinsky, Lisogub ; in vain did it crush and destroy dozens of 
Revolutionary bodies. For this imperfect organization more strongly 
constituted bodies were substituted by a species of " natural selec- 
tion." At last the Executive Committee appeared, against which the 
Government still struggles in vain. 

V If we cast an impartial glance upon the last sorrowful decade, 
we may unmistakably and easily foresee what will be the future of the 
Revolutionary movement should the policy of the Government not 
change. It will increase ; it will extend ; the acts of the Terrorists 
will be felt more acutely ; the Revolutionary organization will take a 
more perfect and a stronger form. Meanwhile there will continually 
be fresh cause for discontent ; the confidence of the people in the 
Government will go on diminishing. The idea of the Revolution, its 
possibility and inevitableness, will constantly gain ground. 

" A terrible explosion, a sanguinary Revolution, a spasmodic con-' 
vulsion throughout all Russia, will complete the destruction of the 
old order of things. 

44 Your Majesty, this is a sad and frightful prospect. Yes, sad 



262 NOTE. 

and frightful. Do not believe that these are mere words. We feel 
more than anybody what a calamity the loss will be of so much talent 
and energy in the work of destruction and in sanguinary encounters, 
at a time when the same forces under other circumstances might be 
devoted to fruitful labors, to the development of the popular intelli- 
gence, to the general welfare. 

" But why the sad necessity for this sanguinary struggle ? 

" For this reason, your Majesty; that a just Government, in the 
true sense of the word, does not exist among us. A Government 
should, in conformity with the essential principle of its existence, be 
the expression of the aspirations of the people, should carry out only 
the will of the people. With us, however — pardon us for saying so 
■ — the Government is a perfect camarilla, and deserves the name of a 
' band of usurpers ' much more than the Executive Committee de- 
serves it. 

" Whatever may be the intentions of the Emperor, the actions of 
the Government have no concern with the aspirations and the welfare 
of the people. 

" The Imperial Government had already deprived the people of 
personal liberty, and made them the slaves of the class of the nobles.* 
It now creates the pernicious class of the speculators and 
usurers. All the reforms only end in rendering the people worse off 
than before. The Government in Russia has gone so far, has re- 
duced the masses to such poverty and misery, that they are not even 
free to act for their common interests, are not secure against the most 
infamous inquisition, even in their very homes. 

" Only the blood-sucking officials, whose knavish exactions remain 
unpunished, enjoy the protection of the Government and the laws. 

" How frightful, on the other hand, is the fate of an upright man 
who labors for the common welfare ! Your Majesty, you yourself well 
know that it is not the Socialists alone who are persecuted and trans- 
ported. 

* Referring to the decrees of the Czars Boris and Alexis (XVI.— XVII.) which 
Alexander II. only partly annulled. 



NOTE. 263 

" What kind of Government is this, which maintains such " order " ? 
Is it not really a band of usurpers ? 

" This is why the Government in Russia has no moral influence 
over *he people ; this is why Russia produces so manv Revolutionists 
this is why even an event like the killing of the Czar excites sympathy 
among a great part of this very people. Pay no heed to flatterers, 
your Majesty. Regicide in Russia is very popular. 

"1 There are only two outlets from such a situation ; either a Rev- 
olution, which will neither be averted nor prevented by condemna- 
tions to death, or the spontaneous surrender of supreme authority to 
the people to assist in the work of government. 

" In the interests of the country, and to avoid a useless waste of 
talent and energy, and those terrible disasters by which the Revolu- 
tion is always accompanied, the Executive Committee addresses itself 
to your Majesty and counsels you to select the latter course. Be sure 
of this, that directly the highest power ceases to be arbitrary, directly 
it shows itself firmly resolved to carry out only what the will and the 
conscience of the people prescribes, you will be able to get rid of 
your spies, who dishonor the Government, dismiss your escorts to 
their barracks, and burn the gibbets, which demoralize the people. 

s Then the Executive Committee will spontaneously suspend its 
ov\ a activity, and the forces it has organized will disband and devote 
themselves to the fruitful work of civilization, culture, and the welfare 
of the people. 

"A pacific struggle of ideas will take the place of the violence 
which is much more repugnant to us than to your servitors, and to 
which we are now compelled to have recourse solely by necessity. 

"We address ourselves to your Majesty, dismissing the prejudice 
and mistrust inspired by the past. We will forget that you are the 
representative of that power which has deceived the people and done 
them so much injury. We address ourselves to you as to a fellow 
citizen and honest man. 

" We hope that personal resentment will not suppress in you, 
either the sentiment of duty or the desire of hearing the truth. 

" We also might feel resentment. You have lost your father : we 



264 NOTE. 

have lost, not only our fathers, but our brothers, wives, sons, and best 
friends. Nevertheless, we are ready to forget all personal rancor, if 
the welfare of Russia demands it, and we expect as much from you. 

" We impose upon you no conditions of any kind. Do not take 
offence at our proposals. The conditions which are necessary in or- 
der that the Revolutionary movement should give place to a pacific 
development have not been created by us, but by events. We simply 
record them. These conditions, according to our view, should be 
based upon two principal stipulations. 

" First, a general amnesty for all political offenders, since they 
have committed no crime, but have simply done their duty as citizens. 

" Second, the convocation of the representatives of the whole of 
the people, for the examination of the best forms of social and politi- 
cal life, according to the wants and desires of the people. 

K We, nevertheless, consider it necessary to point out that the 
legislation of power by the representation of the people can only be 
arrived at when the elections are perfectly free. The elections should 
therefore, take place under the following conditions. 

"First, the deputies shall be chosen by all classes without distinc- 
tion, in proportion to the number of inhabitants. 

" Second, there shall be no restriction of any kind upon electors or 
deputies. 

Third, the elections ancHhe electoral agitation shall be perfectly 
free. The Government will, therefore, grant as provisional regula- 
tions, until the convocation of the popular assemblies : 

(a) Complete freedom of the press. 

(b) Complete freedom of speech. 

(<r) Complete freedom of public meeting. 
(d) Complete freedom of electoral addresses. 

"These are the only means by which Russia can enter upon the 
path of peaceful and regular development. We solemnly declare, 
before the country, and before the whole world, that our party will 
submit unconditionally to the National Assembly which meets upon 
the basis of the above conditions, and will offer no opposition to the 
Government which the national Assembly may sanction. 



NOTE. 265 

"And now, your Majesty, decide. The choice rests with you. 
We, on our side, can only express the hope that your judgment and 
your conscience will suggest to you the only division which can 
accord with the welfare of Russia, with your own dignity, and with 
your duties towards the country. 

"The Executive Committee. 

" March 10(23) 18S1." 

Printed at the office of the " Narodnaia Volia," March 12 (23), 1881. 

Such were the proposals then made by the Revolutionary party to 
the Government, and they have been several times repeated, even in 
the last number of the " Narodnaia Volia' (March 1882). 

The Government replied by fresh executions, by again exiling 
thousands to Siberia, by fresh rigors against the press, and against 
every liberal tendency. 

The impartial reader will judge therefore, who are the partisans 
of justice, moderation, and order, and who are the true "distuibers 
of public tranquillity." 



The Cheapest and Best 

Scouring Soap, 

IN THE WORLD. 

Price lOc. per Cake. 



v 1 
Just Published: 

PROGRESS ASSSD POVERTY, 

By HENRY GEORGE. 

2 Vol., 16mo, Lovell's Library No. 52, M 

If we were asked to name the most important work of the Nineteenth Century, 
we would name " Progress and Poverty." — Xcw York Era. 

A new edition of Canon Farrar's great work, 

EARLY DAYS OF CHRISTIANITY, 

1 Vol., 12mo, cloth, gilt, $100 

1 " " half calf. 2.50 
This edition is printed from large, clear type, on good paper and very attrac- 
tively bound. The half-calf edition v ill make a very handsome * hristmas present 
for your Clergyman or Sunday School Teacher. The above work is also issued in 

2 vols., in neat paper covers, as No. 50, LovelTs Library. 

No. 50. Early Days of Christianity, by Canon Farrar, - Part I, .20 




Recently Published: 

2)ivorce, an original Novel, by Margaret Lee. 1 Vol. 12mo, neat 

paper cover, ...........30 

i Vol., ]2mo cloth, black and gold, .50 
A powerful American Novel, dealing with a subject of vital importance at the 

present day. 

JOHN W, LOVELL CO., Publishers, 

14 and 16 Vesey Street, New York. 



STANDARD PUBLICATIONS. 



Ghas. Dickens' Complete "Works, I George Eliot's Complete Works, 

15 Vols., 12mo, cloth, gilt, $22.50. 8 YoK. P2mo. cloth, gilt, S10.00. 

W. M. Thackeray's Complete Plutarch's Lives of TJlustrious 
"Works, 11 Vols., l2nio, cloth, gilt, Men. 3 Vols., 12mo. cloth, gilt, 
$16.50. I $4.50.' 

JOHN W. LOVELL CO., Publishers, 

14 axd lo Yessy Street, New York. 



STANDARD PUBLICATIONS, 



Sollins* Ancient History, 4 Vols., 
l^mo, clorli. gilt, S6.00. 

Charles Knight's Popular His- 
tory of England, 8 Yols., 12mo, 
^lota, gilt top, $13.00. 



Lovell's Series of Ped Lina 

Poets, 50 Yolumes of all the best 
works of the world's great Poets, 
Tennyson, Shakespere, Milton, Mere- 
dith, lngelow, Proctor, Scott, Byron, 
Dante, &c. $1.25 per volume. 
JOHN W. LOVELL CO., Publishers, 

14 Axe 16 Yssey Street. New Yobs< 



JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY'S 

CHEAP EDITIONS OF 

POPULAR WORKS. 



The following are all 12mo. size, printed from large, clear type, on 
good paper, attractively bound in illuminated paper covers. Hand- 
somely stamped cloth bindings for any volume, furnished for 10 
cents extra. 



Library Editions of those books marked with a * are also 
published large 12mo. size, handsomely bound in cloth. Price, $1.00 
a volume. 



By EDMOND ABOUT. 

A New Lease of Life 20 

By Mks. ALEXANDER. 

*The Wooing O't, Parti 15 

" Part II 15 

*The Admiral's Ward 20 

By F. ANSTEY. 

*Vice Versa; or, a Lesson to 
Fathers 20 

r By SIR SAMUEL BAKER. 

*Caet up by the Sea 20 

*Eignt Years Wandering in Ceylon.. 20 
*Rifle and Hound in Ceylon 20 

By HONORE DE BALZAC. 
The Vendetta, Tales of Love and Pas- 
sion 20 

Br WALTER BESANT AND 
JAMES RICE. 

They Were Married 10 

Let Nothing You Dismay 10 

By BJORNSTJERNE BJORNSON. 

The Happy Boy 10 

Arne 10 

By WILHELM BZRGSOE. 

Pillone 15 

By LILLIE DEVEREUX BLAKE. 
Woman's Place To-day 20 



By Miss M. E. BRADDON. 

*The Golden Calf 20 

*Lady Audley's Secret 20 

By WILLIAM BLACK. 
An Adventure in Thule and Marriage 

of Moira Fergus 10 

*A Princess of Thule 20 

*A Daughter of Heth 20 

*8handon Belis 20 

*Macleod of Dare 20 

*Madcap Violet .20 

*Strange Adventures of a Phaeton.. .20 

*w hite Wings 20 

*Kilmeny. 20 

*Sunrise 20 

*That Beautiful Wretch 20 

*In Silk Attire 20 

*The Three Feathers 20 

* Green Pastures and Piccadilly 20 

*Yolande 20 

By CHARLOTTE BROISTE. 
*Jane Eyre 20 

By RHODA BROUGHTON. 

*Second Thoughts 20 

*Belinda 20 

By JAMES S. BUSH. 
More Words About the Bible .20 

By E. LASSETER BYNNER. 

Nimport, Parti 15 

Part II 15 

Tritons, Part 1 15 

" Part II -..15 



By Mrs. CHAMPNEY 
Bourbon Lilies 20 

Br WILKIE COLLINS. 

♦The Moonstone, Parti 10 

Partll 10 

*The New Magdalen 20 

*Heart and Science 20 

Br J. FENIMORE COOPER. 

*The Las$ of the Mohicans 20 

*The Spy.'. 20 

Br THOMAS DE QUINCEY. 
The Spanish Nun 10 

Br CARL DETLEF. 

Irene, or the Lonely Manor 20 

Br CHARLES DICKENS. 

*0 iver Twist 20 

Pickwick Papers, Part 1 20 

Part II 20 

*A Tale of Two Cities 20 

"'Child's History of England 20 

Br " THE DUCHESS." 

* Portia, or by Passions Rocked 20 

*Molly Bawn 20 

♦Phyllis 20 

M mica 10 

♦Mrs. Geoffrey 20 

*Airy Fairy Lilian 20 

♦Beauty's Daughters 20 

♦Faith and Unt'aith 20 

♦Loys. Lord Beresford 20 

Moonshine and Marguerites 10 

Br Lord DUFFERIN. 

Letters from High Latitud s 20 

Br GEORGE ELIOT. 

*Adam Bede, Part 1 15 

'• Part II 15 

Amos Barto i 10 

Silas Marner 10 

♦Romola Fart I 15 

" Part II 15 

Br F. W. FARRAR, D.D. 

*Seekers After God 20 

♦Early Days of Christiani y, Part I.. .20 
Part II.. 20 

Br JOHN FRANKLIN. 

Ameline du Bourg 15 

Br OCTAVE FEUILLET. 
A Marriage in High Life 20 

Br EMILE GABORIAU. 

♦The Lerouge Case 20 

*Monsieur Lecoq, Part 1 2C 

Pavt II 20 

♦The Mystery of Orcival 20 

*Other People's Money 20 

♦Tn Peril of his Life 20 

♦The Gilded Clique 20 

Promises of Marriage 10 



Br HENRY GEORGE. 
Progress and Poverty 20 

Br CHARLES GIBBON. 
*The Golden Sha't 20 

Br OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 

Vicar of Wakefield 10 

Br Mr3. GORE. 
The Dean's Daughter 2D 

Br JAMES GRANT. 
*The Secret Despatch 20 

Br THOMAS HARDY. 
Two on a Tower .20 

Br PAXTON HOOD. 
Life of Cromwell . .15 

Br LEONARD HENLEY 
*Life of Washington 20 

Br JOSEPH HATTON. 

*Clytie 20 

*Cruel London 20 

Br LUDOVIC HALEVY. 
L'Abbe Constantin 20 

Br ROBERT HOUDIN. 
The Tricks of the Greeks Unveiled. . .20 

Br HORRY AND WEEMS. 

♦Life of Marion 20 

Br Miss HARRIE T JAY. 

The Dark Colleen 20 

Br MARION HARLAND. 

Housekeeping and Homemaking 15 

Br STANLEY HUNTLEY. 
*Spoopendyke Papers 20 

Br WASHINGTON IRVING. 
♦The Sketch Book 20 

Br SAMUEL JOHNSON. 
Rasselas 10 

Br JOHN P. KENNEDY. 

*Horse Shoe Rjbinson, Part 1 15 

" " Part II 15 

Br EDWARD KELLOGG. 
Labor and Capital 20 

Br GRACE KENNEDY. 

Dunallen, Part 1 15 

Partll 15 

Br CHAS. KINGSLEY. 

*The Hermits .£0 

♦Hypatia, Parti 15 

Partll 15 



By Miss MARGARET LEE. 
♦Divorca -..20 

By HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 

♦Hyoerion 20 

♦Out.e Mer 20 

By SAMUEL LOVER. 
The Happy Man 10 



By LORD LYTTON. 

The Coming Race ...10 

Leila, or the Siege of Granada 10 

Earnest Vlaltravers zO 

The Haunted House, and Calderon 

Tho Oourtier 10 

Alice; a -equel to Earnest Maltravers.20 

A Stiange S ory ..20 

♦Last Days of Pompeii 20 

Zanoni £0 

N ght and Morning, Part 1 15 

Part II 15 

Paul Clifford 20 

Lady of Lyons 10 

Money 10 

Richelieu 10 

By H. C. LUKENS, 
*Jets and Flashes 20 



By Mrs. E. LYNN LINTON. 

lone Stewart 20 

By W. E. MAYO. 

The Berber. 20 

By A. MATHEY. 
Duke of Kandos 20 



The Two Due lies? 



.£0 



by Justin ii. McCarthy. 

An Outline of Irish History 10 

By EDWARD MOTT. 

♦Pike County Folks 20 j 

By MAX MULLER. 

*India, what can she teach u-? 20 

By Miss MULOCK. 

♦John Halifax 20 

Br R. HEBER NEWTON 
The Rig t and Wrong Uses of the 
Bible 20 j 

By W. E NORRIS. 

*No New Thing 20 j 

By OUIDA. 

*War.da, Parr, 1 15 I 



Py 



♦Under Two Fh 



re., Part I. 
Part II. 



♦The 



Rob i n . 



By Mrs. OLIPIIANT. 

id.es Lindores 

By LOUISA PARR. 



.20 



By JAMES PAYN. 

♦Thicker than Water 20 

By CHARLES READE. 
Single Heart and Double Face 10 

By REBECCA FERGUS REDCLIFF. 
Freckles 20 

By Sm RANDALL H. ROBERTS. 

Harry Holbrooke . ..20 

By Mrs. ROWSON. 

Charlotte Temple 10 

By W. CLARK RUSSELL. 
*A Sea Queen 20 

By GEORGE SAND. 
The Tower of Percemont , , . .Sq 

By Mrs. W. A. SAVILLE. 
Social Etiquette 15 

By MICHAEL SCOTT. 
*Tom Cringle's Log 20 

By EUGENE SCRIBE. 

Fleurette 20 

By J. PALGRAVE SIMPSON. 
Haunted Hearts 10 

By GOLDWIN SMITH. D.C.L. 

False Hopes 15 

By DEAN SWIFT 
Gulliver's Travels 20 

By W. M. THACKERAY. 

♦Vanity Fair, Part 1 15 

" II 15 

By Judge D. P. THOMPSON. 
♦The Green Mountain Boys 20 

By THEODORE TILTON. 

Tempest Tossed, Part I 20 

lk Part II 20 

By JULES VERNE. 

♦800 League* on the Amazon 10 

♦The Cryptogram 10 

By GEORGE WALKER. 

♦The Three Spaniards 20 

By W. M, WILLIAMS. 

Science in Short Chapters 20 

By Mrs. HENRY WOOD. 
♦East Lynne 20 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

Paul a-d Virginia 10 

Margaret and her Bridesmaids 2 » 

Th ■ Queen of the County 20 

Baton Muncu„u-eu 10 



PROGRESS AND POVERTY, 



By HENRY GEORGE. 
1 Vol. 12mo., large type, neat paper covers, . - .20 

OPi^SO^S OF THE PRESS. 



Not mereiy the most original, the most striking and important contribution 
j Which political economy ha3 yet received from America, bnt it is not too much to 
>>^ £ay that in these respects it has ha J. no equal since the publication of " The Wealth 
| of Nations," by Adam Smith, a century ago.— New York Herald. 

Few books have in recent years proceeded from any American pen that have 
i more plainly borne the marks of wide learning and fetrcnuous thought. — New York 
I I Sun. 

A masterly hook. ?.Ir. George is the only man who has not merely put down 
I clearly, in black and white, what are the causes of social disease, but olxcred a cure. 
—N. Y. Times. 

A courageous thinker, who, though familiar with the learning of the books, 
follows the conclusions of his own reasoning. — New York Tribune. 

If we were asked to name the most important work cf the Nineteenth Centnry t 
we would name "Progress and Poverty. 11 — New York Era. 

The first great economic work in the English language* written from the stand- 
point and in the interests of the laboring classea. — Irish V>~orlJ. 

Progress and Poverty beyond any book of our time deserves careful study.— 
Erooulyx, Times. 

It has been subjected to the criticisms of the candid and thoughtful, the exact- 
ing and the captious, but all agree that it i3 an earnest, powerful, courageous and rar- 
icaching work. The anther has statca his Ceorifts with a clearness cf expression, a 
boldness of thought, and an eloquence cf stylo winch have attracted the attention 
cf the most profound philosophers, and the most learned of political economists. — 
Eoston Post. 

A book which no public man can afford to omit reading. — Yt'ashington Critic. 

Tbe most remarkable book cf the century in its possible effects upon the course 
of human events. — Charleston News and Courier. 

Every sentence is as clear as a sunbeam; every proposition is as legitimately 
traced to its logical result as one of Euclid's. — Galveston News. 

A trumpet call to a struggle which cannot long be avoided. — Philadelphia Star. 

A bold and frank exposition of theories now forcing themselves on public 
notice.— Chicago Tribune. 

Earnest, honest and forcible; radical to the root; bold, sweeping and dogmatig. 
•-^Louisville Courier-Journal. 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, Publishers, 



14 & 10 Vesey Stkeet, New Tors. 



LOVELL'S LIBRARY ADVERTISER. 



POPJLAB NO VELS RECENTLY PUBLISHED. 

Mr. William Black's New Novel, 
YOLANDE, The Story of a Daughter, 

By William Black, Author of "Shandon Bells," "A Princess of 
Thuie," "The Strange Adventures of a Phaeton," etc.; 1 vol., 
12mo., cloth, gilt, $1.00; 1 vol., 12rno., paper, 50 cents; also 
in Lovell's Library, No. 186, 20 cents. 
"A thoroughly pleasant, readable I numerous admirers that his light 

book, showing all Mr. Black's best hand has lost noue of its cunning." 

qualities as a novelist. 1 '— Pall Mall —St. James Gazette. 

Gazette. 

" 'Tolande' will plea c e and interest 
"The novel will satisfy Mr. Black's | many."— TT?< ite/iall Review. 

The LADIES LINDORES. By Mrs! Oliphant. Originally 
published in Blackwood's Magazine. 1 vol , 12rao., cloth, gilt, $1. 
"She is always readable, but never l laird John Erskine, and of the most 
so entertaining as when she lays the i modern of marquises, Lord MLle- 
eceue in Scotland. ..It is impossible fleurs."— Spectator. 
to imagine sketches more lifelike than 

those of old Roils, the pragmatic but- "'The Ladies Lindores' is in every 
ler ...of Miss Barbara Erskine, the ! respect excellent . There are two 



high-spirited, puncnHoas, but sensi- 
ble old aunt; of Lord Rintoul, the 
weakly yet coolly sellL-h and sensible 
young'lord of the ordinary young 



girls at least in this book who might 
make the fortune jf any novel. b«.ing 
deliciously feminine and natural." — 

Saturday Review. 



LOYS, LORD BERESFORD, and o^her Tales. By the 
Author of '"Phyllis," "Molly Bawn." "Mrs. Geoffrey," etc. 
1 vol., 12mo., cloth, gilt, $1.00; also in Lovell's Library, No. 
126, 1 vol., 12mo.. paper cover, 20 cents. 
"That delightful writer the author l ular. There is something good in al 



of Thyliis," has given us a collection of them, and one or two are especially 
of stories which cannot fail to be poo- I racy ai^d piquant. '*— TIte Acadetny. 

NO ISTEW THING. By W. E. N orris, Author of ''Matri- 
mony," "Mademoiselle de Mersac," etc. 1 vol.. 12mo., cloth, 
gilt, $1.00; also in Lovell's Library, No. 108, 20 cents. 
"Mr. Norris has succeeded. His 1 " 'Nc New Thing' is bright, readable 

story, 'No New Thing,' is a very curi and clever, and in every sense of the 

ous one — Theie is unmistakable word a thoroughly interesting book." 

capacity in Ms work."— Spectator. \ Whitehall Review. 

ARDEN. By A. Mary F. Robixsox, 1 vol., 12mo., in Lovell's 
Library, No. 134, 15 cents. 



' "Miss Robinson must certainly be 
congratulated on having scored a suc- 
cess at the very beginning of her ca- 
reer. 'Arden" is an extremely elever 
story, and though it is one merely of 
every-day life, yet the incidents are so 
clothed as to appear fresh and new, 
and the scent of the hay throughout 
is invigorating and refreshing. The 
heroine, who gives her name to the 
book, is a wild, impulsive creature 
whom one cannot heip liking, in spite 
of various weaknesses in her char- 



acter. Bronght up in Rome, on the 
death of her father, Arden returns to 
his native village in Warwickshire, 
there to make acquaintance with the 
truest and freshest country people we 
have ever met on paper. The story 
is simply that of Aidens life and 
marriage, but it is never wearisome 
because of the sharpner-s of the writ- 
ing, and we have to thr-nk Miss Robin- 
son for a verv good novel indeed."— 
Whitehall Review. 



Nevr York: JOH\ W. LOVELL COMPANY. 



LOVELL'S LIBRARY. 



CATA.LOG-UB. 



85. Shandon Bells, by Willinm Black. 20 

86. Monica, by The Duchess 10 

87. Heart and Science, by Wilkie Col- 

lin? 20 

88. The Golden Calf, by Mies M. E. 

Braddon 20 

89. The Dean's Daughter, by Mrs. 

Gore 20 

90. Mrs. Geoffrey, by The Duchess.. 20 

91. Pickwick Papers. Part 1 20 

Pickwick Papers, Part II 20 

92. Airy Fa rvLiiian, by The Duchess. 20 

93. McLeod of Dare, bv Wm. Black. 20 

94. Tempest Tossed, bv Tilton, P'tl.20 
Tempest Tossed, by Tilton, P't II. 20 

95. Letters from High Latitudes, by 

Lord Diifferin 20 

96. Gideon Flevce, by Henry W. Lucy .20 

97. India and Ceylon, bv E. Hseckle. .20 

98. The Gypsy Queen, by Hugh De 

Normand 20 

99. The Admiral's Ward, by Mrs. 

Alexander 20 

100. Nimport, by E. L. Bynner, P't I. .15 
Nimnort, bvE. L. Bynner, P't II. . 15 

101. Harry Holbrooke, by Sir H. Ran- 

dall Roberts 20 

102. Tritons, by E. Lasseter Bynner, 

Parti 15 

Tritons, bv E. Lasseter Bynner, 
Part II.' 15 

103 Let Nothing You Dismay, by Wal- 
ter Besant 10 

10-1. Lady Audlev's Secret, by Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

105. Woman's Place To-Day, by Mrs. 

Lillie Devereus Blake 20 

106. Dunalian, by Kennedy, Part I.. .15 
Dunallan, by Kennedy, Part II.. 15 

107. Housekeeping and Home-Making, 

by Marion Harland 15 

108. No New Thing, by W. E. Norris..20 

109. The SpoopendykePapers, by Stan- 

ley Huntley. 20 

110. False Hopes, by Goldwin Smith. .15 

111. Labor and Capital, by Edward 

Kellogg 20 

112. Wanda, by Ouida, Part I .15 

Wanda, by Ouida, Part II 15 

113. More Words About the Bible, by 

Rev. Jas. S. Bush 20 

114. Monsieur Lecoq, byGaboriau.P't 1 .20 
MonsieurLecoq, by Gaboriau,P't II . 20 

115. An Outline of Irish History, by- 

Justin H. McCarthy 10 

116. The Lerouge Case, by Gaboriau . . 20 

117. Paul Clifford, by Lord Lytton...20 

118. A New Lease of Life, by About.. 20 

119. Bourbon Lillies 20 

1-20. Other Peoples' Money, by Emile 

Gaboriau 20 

1 21 . The L ady of Ly on s, byLord Ly tton . 1 

122. Ameline de Bourg... 15 



123. A Sea Queen, by W. Clark Russell 20 

124. The Ladies Lindores, by Mrs. 

Oliphant 20 

125. Haunted Hearts, by J. P. Simpson. 10 

126. Loys, Lord Beresford, by The 

Duchess 20 

127. Under Two Flags, by Ouida. P't I 20 
Under Two Flags, by Ouida.P't 11.20 

128. Money, by Lord Lytton 10 

129. In Peril of His Life, by Gaboriau. 20 

130. India, by Max Miiller 20 

131. Jets and Flashes 20 

132. Moonshine and Marguerites, by 

The Duchess. 10 

133. Mr. Scarborough's Family, by 

Anthony Trollope, Part 1 15 

Mr. Scarborough's Family, by 
Anthony Trollope, PaTt II 15 

134. Arden, by A. Mary F. Roberts... 15 

135. The Tower of Percemont, by 

George Sand 20 

136. Yolande, by Wm. Black 20 

137. Cruel London, by Joseph Hatton.20 
138t The Gilded Clique, by Gaboriau... 20 

139. Pike County Folks, by E. H. Mott..20 

140. Cricket on the Hearth, byDickens.10 

141. Henry Esmond, by Thackeray 20 

142. S;range Adventures of a Phaeton, 

by Wm. Black 20 

143. Denis Duval, by W. M.Thackeray .10 

144. Oid Curiosity Shop, by Charles 

Dickens, Part 1 15 

Old Curiosity Shop, by Charles 
Dickens, Part II 15 

145. Ivanhoe, by Scott, Part 1 15 

Ivanhoe, by Scott. Part II 15 

146. White W r nsrs. by Wm. Black 20 

147. The Sketcn Book, by Irving. . . .20 
14S. Catherine, by W. M. Thackeray 10 

149. Janet's Repentance, by Eliot 10 

150. Barnaby Radge, Dickens Part 1. 15 
Barnaby Rudge, Dickens P't 11.15 

151. Felix Holt, by George Eliot. .20 

152. Richelieu, by Lord Lytton 10 

153. Sunrise, by Wm. Black Part I.. .15 
Sunrise, by Wm. Black Pare II. . 15 

154. Tour of the World in 80 Days. . . .20 

155. Mystery of Orcival, Gaboriau 20 

156. Lovel, The Widower, by W. M. 
Thackeray 10 

157. The Romantic Adventures of a 
Milkmaid, by Thos. Hardy 10 

158. David Copperfield. Parti 20 

David Copperfield, Part II 20 

159. Charlotte Temple ....10 

160. Rie.izi, by Lord Lyttou. Part I. 10 
Rienzi, by Lord Lvttori, Part II . 10 

151. Promise of Marriage, Gaboriau .25 

162. Faith and Unfaith, The Duchess 15 

163. The Happy Man, Samuel Lover. 10 

164. Barry Lyndon, by Thackeray. . .20 

165. Eyre's Acquittal, Helen Mathers 10 

166. 20.000 Leagues under the Sea, by 
Verne 20 _ 



SOSMEB 

GRAND, SQUARE AND UPRIGH1 
PIANOS. 




Superior to all others in Tone, Durability and Workmanship ; 
have the endorsement of the leading Artists. First Medal of 
Merit and Diploma of Honor at Centennial Exhibition. 

Musical authorities and critics prefer the SOHMER PIANOS, 1 
and they are purchased by those possessing refined musical taste 
and appreciating the richest quality of tone and highest perfection 
generally in a Piano. 

SOHMER & CO., 

MANUFACTURERS OF 

fond, Square and Upright Pianos, j 



149 to 155 EAST 14th ST.. HEW YORK. 



\ 



